


Cheating

by quiteanerdling



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Adoribull is end game, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Cheating, Chess, Cock Piercing, Dirty Talk, Euphemisms, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Piercings, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M, d/s dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiteanerdling/pseuds/quiteanerdling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian cheats at chess, Bull likes to watch, Cullen is easily distracted, and the Inquisitor would rather play cards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. En Passant

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting my first ever fanfic that I took down a while ago. I've gone through and made a few minor edits but left it primarily intact despite my strong urge to completely re-write it. Originally published in June of 2015, tags will update as appropriate.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dorian employs a particularly underhanded method of cheating, and Bull "punishes" him with a little speculation about the training habits of Templars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI the smut doesn't really start until Chapter 3. The picture (and lovely dirty talk) in this chapter are courtesy of the talented[Brinnaners](http://brinanners.tumblr.com/) AKA [AislinCade](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AislinCade/pseuds/AislinCade) who's fic basically launched my career as an adoribull shipper. I can't decide if I should thank her or blame her.

Dorian cheated at chess. That wasn’t news really - The Iron Bull knew it, Commander Cullen knew it, and Bull suspected even the Inquisitor knew, despite the fact she barely knew how to play. Like everything Dorian did, he did it with flair, style, and a charming arrogance that was difficult to resist. In fact, Bull _also_ suspected Cullen enjoyed the cheating, because it made their games more entertaining, and because he still won two times out of three.

That afternoon, in addition to cheating with style and flair, Dorian was doing so with a viciousness that Bull couldn’t help but admire. Despite the nearly imperceptibly moved pieces and “Tevinter rules,” Cullen might still have have been able to claim victory, but the poor man had no defense for the Inquisitor draping herself over Dorian’s chair like a large, white-haired cat, laughing her throaty laugh and whispering in Dorian’s ear.

Bull leaned against the garden wall and watched the scene with interest. Dust Lavellan and Dorian Pavus had a friendship that looked more like a love affair from the outside - rumors that the two were lovers _still_ circulated Skyhold, despite the fact that his relationship with Bull was completely out in the open. The blatant flirting between the Altus and the Inquisitor was generally accompanied by affectionate touches, hugs, the occasional soft kiss, and a great deal of sitting in laps. Normally, she perched on Dorian, but Bull had found the mage in her lap several times, which made him laugh in delight, since Dorian was half again her width. One memorable night after one (or five) too many drinks at the Herald’s Rest, Bull had ended up with Dorian in his lap and Dust in Dorian’s, piled up like a child’s tower of blocks.

People often made the mistake of thinking two touch-starved people finding affection and comfort in the touch of someone who expected nothing more from them automatically implied sex. Bull’s opinion was that most people were unobservant idiots, who were easily played.

While he wouldn’t call Cullen an idiot, Dorian was playing Cullen better than he was playing chess, that was for damn sure. During his turn, the mage would lean up and whisper into Dust’s pointed ear, gesturing at the chessboard as if explaining his chosen strategy, occasionally reaching up to smooth a stray strand of hair from her forehead. She would nod or whisper back with questions, while the Commander of the Inquisition rubbed the back of his neck and tried not to stare at her lips. When Cullen took his own turn, Dorian stayed silent, but spoke volumes with his movements, his arm wrapped around her waist while his fingers stroked her hip gently, fluttering over her thigh.

Bull had to admit, if he were Cullen, there would have been no way he’d have willingly lasted through an entire game. The two of them were damned gorgeous together, and watching Dorian’s hand slide over the supple black leather of her breeches was a little bit wrong and a whole lot hot. The slender fingers running absently over the mage’s bared shoulder were almost a shade or two darker than Dorian’s, while the green swirl of the Mark’s strange patterns glinted faintly, with or without the help of sunlight. Her hair was bone white, a marked contrast to Dorian’s midnight black, and that contrast was evident as she leaned her head against his while she watched Cullen consider the board. Both of them had blue-grey eyes, though Dust’s were so pale the color was almost lost from a distance. Today, her eyes were lined in kohl much like Dorian’s, her white eyelashes darkened to help ward off the brightness of the sun. Bull was absolutely positive that his vain Tevinter peacock knew exactly what a devastating picture they made, all smooth dark skin and contrasting colors, his black mustache and beauty mark balanced by her vivid white facial tattoos.

Even knowing that his kadan had no interest in women, Bull couldn’t help feeling a spike of lust when Dorian sat up and brushed his mouth over her cheek, tracing the line of her vallaslin with his lips. She laughed and pushed him away, complaining about his mustache tickling her. Cullen had no chance. The man was utterly infatuated with the Inquisitor, though absolutely refused to admit to anything stronger than “admiration,” no matter how much Dorian prodded at him. The Boss didn’t help - if ever a woman needed to get laid, it was her, but she seemed to be carrying around a hell of a lot of baggage when it came to sex. Bull wished he could send her to a damn Tamassran.

Though Bull doubted anyone would believe him, he was also positive that Cullen wasn’t immune to Dorian’s gorgeous face, perfect form, and outrageous flirting. Bull would bet his good eye that the Lion of Skyhold was picturing two dark skinned bodies naked in his bed, ready to give him all of their attention. Bull sure as hell was - he was committed, not dead. There was no denying that Cullen’s blush seemed to be permanently in place by now, and he was going to rub the fur off the back of his cloak if he didn’t stop kneading the back of his neck.

Bull decided it was time to take pity on the man before he passed out. He couldn’t have the leader of the Inquisition’s forces fainting in the garden. They already had to counter enough rumors about blood magic _without_ Cullen mysteriously collapsing in the presence of the Tevinter mage. Between the blushing and the raging hard on he sported (if the way he was crossing his legs was any indication), it was impressive Cullen even had enough blood pumping through the rest of his body to stay upright. The Iron Bull slipped quickly and silently up behind Dorian and leaned down before the mage even noticed he was there.

“Hey kadan,” he rumbled.

The startled swearing in Tevene was well worth the zap of electricity that Dorian pushed into his chest in revenge. Dust, with reflexes that once more reminded Bull of a large cat, hopped gracefully off Dorian’s chair with another low laugh. Cullen looked up and gave them a grin, then returned his attention to the board.

“What do you want you _ridiculous_ oaf? I could have killed you with a thought!” Dorian scowled up at Bull, lips turned down in a frown under the perfect curl of his mustache.

“Nah, I’m sure the Boss would protect me from your magical wrath.” Bull gave her the one-eyed wink he knew drove Dorian mad, and she laughed. It was nice to hear - the woman who Bull had met on a sodden Storm Coast beach hadn’t been nearly so quick to laugh. Though that same wicked half smile had definitely been there.

“Not a chance Bull - you rather deserve a lightning bolt to the face. I’d give you a magnificent funeral though.”

“Huh,” He pretended to consider the offer while putting a hand on Dorian’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “Would there be dancers? Naked dancers? And booze for everyone?”

“Oh of course - only the best in naked debauchery and drunkenness to honor the fall of the great and powerful The Iron Bull.” Dust opened her arms wide, as if showing off a magnificent scene. Cullen looked up with a small smirk - Bull’s distraction had already eased the man’s blushing, despite the racy nature of the conversation.

“Where exactly does one requisition naked funeral dancers, Inquisitor?” Cullen asked.

“Minrathous.” Bull, Dorian, and Dust replied in unison, as if practiced - all four of them laughed.

“Someday I’m really going to have to visit Tevinter, apparently.” Cullen conceded with a chuckle.

“Oh most definitely dear Commander! Just not in that coat, they’d turn you away at the border!” Dorian reclined back in his chair at the quip, tilting his head slightly to allow Bull to continue stroking his neck and shoulder. Cullen rolled his eyes.

“Unlike some members of the Inquisition, what I apparently lack in fashion sense, I make up for in body heat.” Dust snickered, and Bull let himself chuckle. Dorian sat up, eyes narrowing at the blond, whose attention had returned to the chessboard, expression innocent.

“Are you _sassing_ me commander? I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I am also _winning…_ check.”

“Ugh, don’t get smug commander, there will be no living with you.” Dorian pouted and sat back in his chair, arms and legs both crossed as he considered the board, the silverite toes of his boots glinting as he tapped his foot against open air. “No, there’s no point in continuing. This lout -” he smacked a hand into the Bull’s bare stomach and Bull grinned at the hasty retreat, “-has distracted me utterly. There is no point in going on.”

“A wise leader knows when retreat is the best option.” Cullen said, smirk transforming into a grin that Bull could only describe as “shit eating.”

Dorian’s response was a disgusted noise that reminded Bull of Cassandra. He followed the wordless protest with a dramatic flounce as he left his chair and the gazebo, making a rude Tevene gesture as he departed. Bull doubted Cullen would even recognize it, but _he_ certainly did. He’d have to ask Dorian where a pampered Altus learned a gesture normally reserved for sailors and dock workers. Bull followed the mage, enjoying the angry twitch of his ass as he stalked off, but turned to look back over his shoulder when he heard Cullen invite the Inquisitor to play a round. She made the same face she had made the first time Varric explained Ferelden blood pudding, but sat back down gracefully and quirked a smile at Cullen. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

“Dorian,” he said, catching up to the ‘Vint, who was wandering in the direction of the Herald’s Rest. “That’s was pretty evil. Hot, but evil.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about amatus. Do try to make sense.”

“You getting handsy with the Boss just to distract poor Cullen. I mean, having her there at all was bad enough, but your hand on her thigh, all the whispering? That’s a man who’s going to be spending the next week with desire demons romping through his head every time he goes to sleep.”

The grin Dorian threw over his shoulder was entirely wicked and utterly delightful. He slowed his flounce to a saunter and Bull once more admired the view. His kadan really did have the most amazing ass.

“Serves him right for not admitting he’s madly in love with her, the great curly lummox.”

“First of all, I don’t think it’s just _her_ that’s going to be wandering through his dreams, and second, I don’t really think the Boss would react too well to anyone declaring their love for her, let alone Cullen. He might get somewhere with lust though.”

They had reached the Herald’s Rest and Dorian flung the door open, a dramatic punctuation to their conversation.

“Don’t be ridic- wait…” He paused just inside the door, making Bull come to a sharp stop so he wouldn’t run the shorter man over. “What do you mean it wouldn’t be just her?”

Bull grinned and headed over to his normal chair, pulling Dorian along by his bare arm and enjoying the feel of smooth, warm skin under his hand. As he passed, he nodded at Krem, who rolled his eyes at the two of them and went back to the game of cards he was playing with Skinner and Grim. Bull admired Krem-de-la-Krem’s dedication to losing money since those two had the fewest tells of any of the Chargers.

Bull sat down in his chair with a huff and pulled Dorian down onto his good knee. Dorian tensed for a moment, eyes moving around the tavern, and then relaxed with a sigh. More and more, Dorian accepted public moments of affection and let himself enjoy them, rather than fleeing like a startled ram. He rewarded Dorian’s courage with a gentle hand on his back, sitting up to press his lips close to the other man’s ear and kept his voice low.

“You really don’t think Cullen’s going to be imagining you both in his bed? Don’t think I don’t see the way he blushes when you flirt with him, kadan. Just because he’s infatuated with the Boss doesn’t mean he wasn’t picturing himself fucking _you_.” Dorian went utterly still as Bull whispered in his ear. He could feel heat radiating off of Dorian’s cheek as the mage gave a small whimper and dug his fingers into Bull’s thigh.

“That is… that is utterly ridiculous. I’m sure our Commander is as pure as the snow we’re constantly surrounded by. He blushes at _everything_. And I very much doubt he favors men, Bull.” But Dorian swallowed, and Bull could see he’d sparked all sorts of delicious ideas in his head.

“Ha! Keep telling yourself that. Those Templars spend a damn long time cooped up together, and they’re what, three-to-one men to women most of the time? You think they’re all staying chaste? Or have the coin to run off to a brothel? That they’re not playing hide-the-practice-sword at night under the covers?”

Dorian snorted with derision, though the flush was still high on his cheeks.

“I have a great deal of trouble imagining former Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford playing ‘hide-the-practice-sword,’ as you so charmingly put it, with anyone.”

“Really?” Bull asked. He actually felt a bit incredulous that Dorian hadn’t pictured exactly that sort of thing while he was flirting outrageously with the Commander. “We need to work on your imagination big guy. Just picture him with that other Warden who came in with Hawke, you met him, right? Alistair! _He_ was training to be a Templar too, I think they knew each other. Couple of pretty blond virgins, sharing a room together, trying hard not to stare when they get naked, maybe one of them trying to jerk off quietly under the covers? One decides to help the other out...” Bull was getting warmed up thinking about it, his hand moving down from Dorian’s back to the curve of his ass as he spun his dirty tale.

“Bull! Stop at once. Alistair is married to the _Hero of Ferelden_.” Dorian looked torn between genuine indignance and interest. He squirmed in Bull’s lap, but didn’t object to the hand on his ass.

“So what? You think he was a virgin on their wedding night? Running around with the Templars, then the Grey Wardens? All that fighting and life risking? That shit gets a man hot, kadan.”

“Well it certainly doesn’t mean he and Cullen were… ahem… keeping company while they trained!”

“Yeah, I mean probably not, but it’s fun as hell to think about, right?”

“No! Absolutely not, you great pervert!” Dorian elbowed him in the belly, but then counteracted the animosity by throwing his arms around Bull’s shoulders and burying his flushed face in Bull’s neck.

“The only one who’s bed I want to be in is yours, amatus. I don’t want to be with anyone else.” It’s a whisper and Bull doesn’t miss the emotion in it. He runs a soothing hand down Dorian’s back, pulling his legs over both of his own with a hand on his thigh.

“Hey, I never said anything about being in anyone else’s bed, kadan. I said it was fun to _think_ about. I’m all yours and I like it that way, but it’s never gonna stop me from thinking dirty thoughts.”

Dorian laughed and pressed a kiss to Bull’s muscle-corded neck.

“Well, I suppose dirty thoughts never did any harm...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bull's speculation about Alistair and Cullen was inspired by Elfroot's [Swords & Broken Shields](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3604299/chapters/7952208). Apparently Bull ships Cullistair, who knew?


	2. Queen Takes Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Commander and the Inquisitor (almost) play chess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any mistakes in my Spanish - they should be attributed all to me and not my various Spanish instructors through the years. I gave this chapter a little cleanup like the first one, but from here on out all the chapters are going up as they were originally because I'm lazy and it feels like cheating. (Ha, pun not actually intended, but I'm sticking with it.)

“I’m afraid that wasn’t a very satisfying victory,” Cullen said with a shake of his head as he watched Dorian stalk off, Bull following behind like a giant grey shadow. “Would you like to play a round Inquisitor?”

Dust hated chess. The game was boring and confusing. Every time she tried to anticipate moves, her brain got tangled in endless loops of possibilities until she couldn’t hope to sort through the snarl. She sometimes wondered if Dorian really enjoyed chess or just enjoyed spending an hour or so flirting with Cullen. But the Commander was being oh so earnest in his invitation, so she sat in Dorian’s vacated chair with a sigh. She was _also_ beginning to suspect Dorian had invited her to watch for entirely unscrupulous reasons, the bloody peacock, and now she felt a bit guilty. She made a disgusted face as she looked at the board. She couldn’t even tell what Dorian had been attempting, or how Cullen had gotten him into check.

“Commander, I’m utterly abysmal at chess. Dorian’s been trying to teach me and I have no head for it. I wouldn’t present the least challenge,” She poked at a pawn as if it might spring to life and bite her. “I don’t suppose you’d consider a friendly round of Diamond Back instead?”

This time it was Cullen’s turn to make a disgusted face; it was rather adorable, like a mabari pup who had sniffed pepper. 

“I have seen you play cards, Inquisitor, there is absolutely nothing friendly about it,” 

She laughed and waved her hand, conceding the point. No doubt he was recalling a particularly memorable game of Wicked Grace. Though, really, he wasn’t being fair - _she_ had merely won his boots and gauntlets; it was Josie who had won the rest. _All_ the rest. Dust was the one who made sure all of his gear was cleaned and left neatly folded in a box outside his door the next morning... afternoon… well, evening, really, but she had made sure he got it all back, despite a very strong temptation to see if Josie would let her keep the coat for a bit.

“All right, but you have to admit I’m far better at cards.” She picked up the black queen, which Dorian had miraculously managed to keep in play, and twirled it over her knuckles. She liked that the queen was the most powerful piece in the game. Everyone scrambled around trying to protect the king, when really it was the queen that got things done. Chess might be boring, but it certainly made for interesting metaphors.

“The problem is your teacher, Inquisitor. Dorian isn’t teaching you to play, he’s teaching you to _cheat_. But you can’t cheat effectively if you don’t even know what rules you’re breaking,” He gave her a smile that on anyone else she might have described as wicked. She’d go so far as to give Cullen _intriguing._ She met his eyes, and for once, he didn’t blush or rub the back of his neck. “I could teach you how to play properly. I’ve taught others.”

“Hmm... “ she put the queen back down precisely on the board. “Well we do have a bit of time before our meeting with Leliana and Josephine. I suppose I could think of it as tactics training. Then I can kill people in theory as well as reality.”

Cullen made a face that seemed stuck somewhere between involuntary amusement and horror, but he simply cleared his throat and nodded as he began to reposition the pieces.

“Let’s begin with the very basics so we can clear your head of any ‘Tevinter rules’,” 

Dust grinned and pulled her legs up under her, shifting so she was perching on the edge of her chair, and rested her forearms on the table, careful not to touch the board. One of Cullen’s gloved fingers brushed her sleeve as he repositioned a tower, and she saw the blush return to his cheeks, though thankfully fainter than before. 

Really, she couldn’t decide whether she found all that awkwardness endearing, amusing, or annoying - probably all three. Every so often, she found herself with a desire to give him something to _actually_ blush about, but she’d been resisting urges like that for years, and she certainly couldn’t give in now that they’d made her their leader. Wouldn’t do to chew up her Commander and spit him back out again in her traditional fashion.

“All right Commander, educate me.”

Cullen proceeded to explain the basic movement of all of the pieces, starting with the pawns. Dust stopped him when he explained the movement of the knights in particular.

“Wait a moment...I know I saw Dorian move that pierce forward _three_ squares and one over, not two,” 

Cullen rolled his eyes in response. “ _Cheating_ , remember?”

“Ah, yes, carry on.”

When he had finished with the explanation of the all of the movements, ending with the king’s, he looked up at her expectantly.

“Did you catch all that, or should I repeat it? When we actually play we can review the moves if you desire.”

Dust gave him an amused look, eyebrows raised, and touched a pawn with one finger again.

“Pawn moves forward one square, though it can also move two on first turn. It moves diagonally to take another piece,” Cullen nodded and she moved her finger to the knight.

“The knight moves two squares forward, never three, and one to the side. They can jump over other pieces without capturing them. The grand cleric may move as far as she wishes, but only diagonally, and only on her starting color. The tower may also move as it wishes, but only forward, backward, and to the sides.” 

Her fingers gently tapped each piece as she recited their individual moves, until she returned to her queen. She picked the piece up and once more twirled it across her knuckles like the gamblers of Antiva City twirled their lucky coins.

“The queen,” she said with a half smile, “The most powerful piece on the board. She may move any one direction she wishes, but may not move _through_ any of her pieces.” 

Cullen returned her half smile with a grin, obviously pleased with her memory. She set the queen back down and picked up the black king, shaking her head regretfully.

“The king… who spends all his time making the other pieces scurry about like nugs trying to protect him, the useless git. He can only run away, and only one square at a time. Really, the queen should off him herself and just take over the kingdom. Then they might get something done.” She picked the queen back up and looked at it seriously. “Your majesty, have you ever considered regicide?”

Cullen laughed out loud and reached out to take both pieces out of her hands.

“You are far too blood-thirsty Inquisitor, try not to check-mate yourself. One might argue that the king is busy with the duties of a ruler and requires others to help maintain the boundaries of his kingdom.”

She made a disgusted noise, and Cullen shook his head.

“The Seeker is rubbing off on both you and Dorian.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about Commander.” She replied in a perfect imitation of Cassandra’s accent, the Navarran adulterated by years spent in Orlais. Cullen looked at her wide eyed for a moment before bursting into the most genuine peal of laughter she had heard from him in some time. He was always rather serious but even more so since he’d confessed his struggle with his lyrium addiction. Dust lowered her eyes demurely, but had trouble fighting her smile.

“That was an impressive imitation! Can you do others?” He tilted his head to the side, eyebrows raised in inquiry. He looked younger when he forgot the weight of the army sitting on his fur-draped shoulders. She could admit that she was beginning to understand that feeling of pressure, as all of Thedas felt as if it was resting on hers.

She sat back and crossed her legs at the knee, lounging back in her chair as if posing for a portrait, one arm draped over the back. 

“Me dear commander, I can imitate anyone you wish, as long as you’re willing to peel me grapes as repayment,” She tapped her toe in imitation of Dorian’s nervous tick, reaching up to stroke her fingers over the imaginary curl of her mustache.

“Too easy,” Cullen said with a snicker, “You two are practically attached at the hip, it surprises me you don’t already speak with a Minrathous accent.”

She sat up and did her best to look offended, arched a single brow and looked down her nose.

“ _Kaffas_ Commander, if you’re going to sass me, make your own choice.” 

He looked at her a moment, eyes narrowed as he considered his options.

“Varric.”

Dust grinned. That was a good one. She sat forward on her chair and spread her knees, imitating Varric’s favored story-telling position - right elbow on her knee, left hand on her thigh, elbow canted out. She was tempted to unlace her tunic for the full effect, but didn’t feel like getting scandalized looks from the wandering Chantry sisters or setting off more of Cullen’s blushing.

“You know Curly, you should really give Wicked Grace a second chance. I’m pretty sure your walk of shame was good for morale,” She couldn't make her voice as deep as Varric’s, but she added a gravelly roughness to it. She knew her accent was spot on because she’d done her imitation for Varric and Hawke at the Herald’s Rest the night the Champion showed up at Skyhold.

Cullen shook his head and groaned, then laughed ruefully.

“Not a chance on Wicked Grace, Inquisitor. But still, that’s rather amazing. How in the Maker’s name do you do that?” 

It took an act of will, but she managed to bite back the urge to snap that she didn’t do anything in the Maker’s name, or Andraste’s. It wasn’t Cullen’s fault that she was damned tired of being an icon for a religion she didn’t share, and mostly loathed; her pain points were not his problem. Instead, she took a deep breath and tried to muster a small smile.

“I’ve always been able to do it, since I was little. I just…” She thought about it for a moment. She had no idea how to explain it, only that she _felt_ peoples’ voices in her head, and in her mouth, and she knew the moment they felt correct on her tongue. “You know I don’t know how to describe it really. Helps with learning languages though.”

“Really?” He seemed to have completely forgotten their nascent chess game, more fascinated by a silly quirk she’d had since her lips first wrapped around her mother’s Elvhen phrases and her father’s mix of Antivan and Common. “How many languages do you speak?”

“Hmm…” She had to think for a moment, and started at the beginning, counting. “Elvhen, Antivan, Common, Orlesian, and Tevene, so five. Though Dorian claims I have the accent of a Vyrantium fish wife. I suppose I’ll have to spend more time listening to him speak it if I ever want to correct that. Oh and Rivaini, though it’s been so long since I’ve heard anyone speak it I’ve probably forgotten half of what I know. So let us say five and a half.”

Cullen was gawking at her in enough surprise that it was rather unflattering. She narrowed her eyes, and felt the muscles of her back tense with annoyance.

“You needn’t look so shocked Commander.” This time when he blushed, she felt it was appropriate and hoped he got light headed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply… it’s just I’m quite impressed! I only speak Common and Orlesian, and Leliana always says I should avoid speaking Orlesian unless it’s an emergency. In Kirkwall I actually picked up a bit of Qunlat, with all the Arishok’s men about, and later the Tal-Vashoth, but I have no gift for languages at all.”

“I asked Bull if he would teach me Qunlat, and he told me I’d need to commit myself to the Qun first. Fairly certain that’s his way of saying ‘not a chance in hell.’ But I’ll pick some of it up from him eventually, he lets phrases drop too much not to.” She should really learn to give Cullen a bit more credit. Most of the inner circle of the Inquisition seemed to genuinely like her. It was such an odd experience after three years as her clan’s black sheep that she couldn’t quite get used to it.

“The things I know are of limited use. Mostly orders… _Fazha thrin,_ leave us, _katoh_ , stop.” 

Dust made an involuntary noise in the back of her throat and Cullen stopped, confused. She closed her eyes and folded her lips tight against each other to keep laughter from spilling out, feeling the stud below her lower lip press against her teeth. When she realized what was going on between Dorian and Bull, she had lured the mage to her quarters with the promise of Josie’s best brandy and gotten a _very_ enthusiastic description of their first (three) encounters. She would never in a thousand years betray Dorian’s trust, but oh it took all of her willpower not to laugh hysterically.

“Cullen… please don’t ever use that word around Bull. Or Dorian. _Please_.”

“You mean _katoh_?” He was obviously confused. “Does it not mean what I thought? I’ve been using it for years and it never seemed to anger the Qunari. Though admittedly that can be a bit hard to gauge with most of them.”

He would be the death of her. “Just… please, as a friend, trust me, it will be awkward for everyone.”

“Well all right, since you asked as a friend,” He said with a shrug and an incredibly sweet smile. For just a moment, she felt a stirring inside her that she could barely identify before she firmly squelched it. _OFF LIMITS!_ She told herself firmly. 

“So how about Leliana?”

“What?” She asked, distracted by her internal scolding.

“Can you imitate Leliana? Her accent is a bit of a muddle.”

She closed her eyes again, this time hearing the Nightingale's distinctive, sweet voice. Leliana _was_ a bit more difficult. She turned so her body was sideways in her chair and looked at Cullen from the corner of her eye, eyelashes slightly lowered.

“Commander, did you do something different with your hair today?”

“Very funny, Inquisitor,” He said sourly, but he was still smiling. “And Josephine?”

“Too easy, Commander.”

“Oh I am, am I?”

Dust and Cullen both jumped and turned to find Leliana and Josephine watching them. Josie’s brow was arched, her arms crossed over her chest, lace ruffles flowing over her lovely hands. She was trying to look stern, but the twitch at the corner of her mouth gave her away. Leliana stood slightly behind her, her hood back and her red hair glinting in the afternoon sunlight. Her hands were clasped behind her back as usual, and she wore her best serene face. Leliana had no tells that she’d figured out yet, but Dust suspected she was amused none the less.

“Why my dear Lady Montilyet, of course you are!” Dust fell easily back into the tones of Antiva, though her own accent had been rougher when she lived there, born of the Alienage and not of the court. “One does not forget the sound of a beautiful woman’s voice.”

Dust hopped up from her chair and took the Ambassador’s hand in her own, dipping into the exaggerated bow of an Antivan _don_ to drop a chaste kiss on Josie’s knuckles before grinning up at the now blushing woman.

 _“Lo siento que estamos tardes,”_ She finished with a wink.

 _“Está perdonado,”_ Josie replied with a shake of her head that sent the little curls against her cheeks swinging.

Cullen came up to stand beside Dust, hand back on his neck in embarrassment.

“Apologies ladies, I take it we’re late for our meeting. The Inquisitor and I were playing chess and lost track of time.” 

“Really, Commander? Because it does not look like you have managed to complete a single turn.” Leliana was definitely amused, her voice warm. Commander and Inquisitor both turned to look at the board, perfectly arranged as if to begin a game

“Yes, my devious plan to avoid being defeated worked perfectly. If we never actually manage to play, Cullen can’t win,” She said, turning back to the ladies. Her advisors laughed, including Cullen himself.

“I propose a deal Inquisitor,” He responded. “You let me teach you to play chess, and I’ll submit myself to the humiliation of playing cards with Josephine again.” And there was the sass that Dorian had so briefly admired. Josie’s eyes lit up with avarice and Dust groaned. There’s no way she could escape now, Josie would push and push, ever so sweetly, until she agreed. 

“Fine. But I’m teaching you how to play _properly_ Commander - can’t have you losing your pants again!” 

Satisfied she’d managed to win that particular bout, she made her way toward the door to the Great Hall, smiling at the sound of women laughing and Cullen’s muttered “Maker’s breath!” 


	3. Castling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filthy smut ahoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first smut I ever wrote. Far be it from me to take the easy route, I just threw in a threesome. Please note the tags, there's some minor dub-con in here.

Ending up naked and spreadeagled, tied with silken ropes to The Iron Bull’s bed was not an unusual occurrence for Dorian - in fact, if he went longer than a fortnight without ending up that way, he was greatly disappointed (and also probably being dragged through some swamp full of demons by Dust). This time, there were two problems: one, he had no memory of how he got there, which was disappointing since he really enjoyed the process of getting there, and two, Commander Cullen was _also_ in Bull’s room, standing next to the bed wearing nothing but a pair of leather breeches and a smirk.

Bull was lounging in the large armchair he kept in the room, in his usual horrid circus pants, grinning at Dorian as the mage licked his lips and tried to make sense of his surroundings. The whole situation was unnerving and arousing, made even more unnerving _because_ it was arousing. When Cullen leaned down, smirk still pulling at his scar, and gave the small gold hoop in Dorian’s right nipple a tug, it did nothing to help ease his confusion. He let out a shocked (and admittedly aroused) gasp, and pulled against his bonds.

“I must admit, Dorian, that you certainly are _creative_ when it comes to cheating at chess. Today’s stunt was downright underhanded, and I’m not one to let such tricks go unpunished.” Cullen’s voice was low and amused, but his movement as he climbed on the bed and threw one muscular leg over Dorian’s llap to straddle him was precise and deliberate. His eyes widened at the brush of leather over his cock, and he turned to look at Bull with concern. Andraste’s tits, what was the man up to? He had time to catch the widening of Bull’s grin before Cullen’s hand gripped his chin none-too-gently and turned the mage back to face him, gold eyes boring into blue.

“Bringing the Inquisitor to our game Dorian? Whispering in her ear, running your hand over her thigh whenever it was my turn? You really thought I wouldn’t realize exactly what you were doing?” Cullen’s mouth was getting closer and closer to his own, while his unoccupied hand continued to tug at Dorian’s nipple ring. Eventually, he had to shut his eyes to keep them from crossing as he looked at the Commander. He felt Cullen’s warm breath on his lips, and it did not at all help with the aroused/unnerved conundrum.

“The... “ he let out a small gasp as Cullen shifted his hips, rubbing leather over Dorian’s cock again. “The Inquisitor and I have a very close friendship. We simply express our affection physically on occasion. It’s not my fault if you find her distracting.”

The Commander laughed, a low rumbling chuckle as he sat back, legs pressing in on either side of Dorian’s hips. The mage peeled one eyelid open to look at him. If he was going to be honest, at least inside his own head, he could admit that a shirtless Cullen was definitely not a trial to look at - his skin was pale, a smattering of freckles over his shoulders and arms. A large, jagged scar stretched down across the ribs on his left side, while smaller scars peppered the rest of his chest and stomach like beauty marks. His chest hair was several shades darker than the blond curls on his head, narrowing into a v as is trailed down past the line of his waistband. Dorian’s eyes followed the hair, and it was rather delightfully obvious that he was not the only one with an erection.

“You really think the Inquisitor is the only one I wanted to get my hands on, Dorian? That I didn’t picture both of you naked in my bed, all that lovely brown skin just waiting for me to mark it?” Calloused hands once more touched him, this time pinching the tender skin at the inside of his thigh quite hard. Dorian whimpered at the rough touch, and Cullen’s thumbs traced along the divot his flexed thigh muscle caused, stopping just short of his groin. He stroked briefly, as if considering, then moved his hands up Dorian’s hips, across the smooth line of his ribs, thankfully still scar free, despite the Inquisitor’s knack for putting him in danger.

Cullen showed remarkable balance and muscle control as he shifted his body upward, hands moving over Dorian’s shoulders and then resting on either side of his head. This time, he kept himself upright so the mage could see his face clearly, all his muscles flexing in a way that made Dorian squirm. Damn the man for being beautiful - his muscles chiseled as if he were carved by a Tevinter master. A _randy_ Tevinter master at that. It was growing hard to breathe by the time Cullen’s lips found his ear - the ever present stubble scratched at his skin in a way that made him shiver.

“You think I don’t picture you rutting over me, cock buried in my ass, every one of your thrusts pushing me deeper into her, until we all come undone?”

Dorian made a noise that he might have called a squeak, if he had been willing to admit such a thing. He had no interest in the Inquisitor, or any woman in that way, but the thought of Cullen’s muscled body beneath him, around him, well that was… he heard a sound halfway between a whimper and a moan, and realized it was him.

“I think you might have broken him a little, Commander. Also, if you really want him to fuck you that way, we’re going to have to adjust those ropes.” Dorian’s eyes flashed to Bull, who had managed to stand up and strip completely naked without him noticing, which was an impressive feat. Almost as impressive as the Bull’s hard on. What in the Maker’s name was going on? How did he end up like this? While he did recollect having a rather… heated conversation with Bull in the Herald’s Rest about the possibility that Cullen might harbor some _diverse_ tastes, he had never agreed to a threesome.

“That’s quite alright Iron Bull, you fuck me, I’ll fuck him, it all works out even without the Inquisitor. I’m adaptable.” Cullen grinned over his shoulder at Bull as Dorian made another protesting noise.

“Bull!” He finally managed to make words, and tried not to imagine the Iron Bull looming over both of them, as Cullen pressed into him at whatever pace Bull chose to set. “What in the void is going on? How did I end up here? This is a very poor joke on both your parts!”

That must be it. A very humiliating practical joke. Perhaps a little knockout powder in his drink, courtesy of the fair Lavellan in retaliation for making her his unwitting accomplice. Yet it was impossible to believe that either Bull or Dust would ever do such a thing to him, and he couldn’t imagine Cullen going along with it either.

“Oh kadan,” Bull rumbled, walking over to the bed. He leaned over and placed one great grey hand on Cullen’s head, pulled the man up by his curls, then lowered his head, ever mindful of his horns, to kiss and bite at a freckled shoulder. Dorian was _not_ at all aroused by the sound of Cullen’s moan. Not. At. All. He would keep telling himself that until he believed it.

“Don’t be so uptight. I bring you a beautiful present, and you act like it’s torture. You are so fucking gorgeous like this, laid out and ready for both of us. Think how good it’s going to feel to have the Commander here inside you. If you’re good I’ll fuck you again after he opens you up, use his cum for slick.”

Bull brought his mouth down on Cullen’s, and Dorian had a very hard time fighting through his arousal because sweet _Maker_ he felt like Bull’s word’s had set him on fire.

“Strip, Commander.” Bull ordered, letting go of the smaller man.

“Yes Captain.” Cullen said with a smirk. It was the same smirk he wore when he defeated Dorian at chess, even when Dorian was cheating. It was the same smirk he had worn earlier when Bull interrupted Dorian’s ingenious plan, and sent Dust hopping off his lap with a laugh. The smirk lingered as he met Dorian’s eyes and unlaced his breeches, freeing his cock and shoving the pants off and away with a smooth motion. Dorian swallowed, not without some trouble, and closed his eyes. Bull’s fingers laced through his hair and pulled hard, jarring his eyes back open. He gasped as the sharp bite of pain sent sensation running straight to his cock.

“No closing your eyes kadan. I want you to enjoy the entire show.”

“Fuck you Bull, and fuck the Commander, and fuck Lavellan! I am not doing this. Untie me at once!” Bull laughed, that low, deep thunderous sound that undid all of Dorian’s will like ropes coming untied.

“Well you’re welcome to fuck me kadan, and I will definitely be fucking the Commander, but Lavellan might have to wait for another time.”

Cullen stood next to Bull naked and still entirely too perfect. Now that he was even closer, Dorian could see that more freckles made their way down the Commander’s pelvis, right down to the nest of dark blond hair at the base of his cock. He tried not to stare, and utterly failed, licking his lips - Cullen’s cock was just fucking gorgeous, as ridiculous as it felt to even think. He was fully erect, foreskin pulled back to reveal the deep pink of his head, the tip glistening with pre-cum. It wasn’t as if he was exceptionally large, like Bull, but he was beautifully formed, and surprisingly… girthy. Dorian swallowed again and tried to look away, but then there was a large grey hand wrapped all the way around Cullen’s dick, tugging on it gently in a way that made his brown eyes flutter shut and a moan escape his scarred mouth.

 _“Shit.”_ Dorian said softly, and that earned him another grin from Bull, who was still moving his hand slowly and steadily along Cullen’s length. He leaned down to kiss the smaller man hard on the mouth. If the combination of unnerved and aroused had been strange, the raging jealousy tossed into the mix was even stranger. He was torn between setting the other two men on fire, and begging them to remember he was there, and for fuck’s sake to touch him.

Bull seemed to read his mind, because he pulled away from Cullen with a wet sound and a last stroke of his beautiful cock. Dorian bit his lip to keep from making a sound.

“Up on the bed on your hands and knees Cullen, and face me.”

Like the good soldier he was at heart, Cullen walked quickly around the bed and then crawled up onto it, knees on one side of Dorian’s chest and hands on the other. Bull pressed his long legs against the side of the bed and shifted forward until he could guide the Commander’s lips to the head of his own massive cock with fingers tangled in blond curls. This time, Dorian couldn’t hold back a whimper as Cullen’s pink tongue pushed from between his lips, swirling around the purple-grey head before taking it fully into his mouth. Bull gave an approving rumble and reached down to squeeze Cullen’s muscular shoulder. He turned to look down at Dorian, who glared back, burning with frustration, jealousy, anxiety, and arousal.

Bull’s hand slid down the Commander’s ribs, brushing over scars as he curled himself over slightly and grabbed one well muscled ass cheek. Cullen’s attention to Bull’s dick hadn’t wavered in the slightest, and he was making impressive progress toward taking the qunari whole, filthy wet sounds and little moans assaulting Dorian’s ears as the man committed himself fully to his work.

“Cullen,” Bull said softly. “Dorian needs some attention. I want your hand on his cock.”

Following the new order as readily as the last, Cullen pulled his hand up from the sheets, groping blindly across overheated, dark skin until he found Dorian’s cock. He was unbearably hard and leaking, his body clearly not suffering from the same reservations as his brain. Fingers wrapped him tight, thumb running through the liquid beaded at his slit. The hand began moving in a rhythm to match the way Cullen was sucking down Bull’s cock, and Dorian groaned. One wouldn’t expect that gripping a sword all day would give a man any finesse, but even with Bull’s dick down his throat, Cullen seemed capable of keeping up a steady rhythm on Dorian, even stroking down to cup his balls and press a knuckle against his perineum before moving back to his shaft. His touch felt so damn good that Dorian’s hips thrust up against his will, begging for more contact.

The Iron Bull was watching him, groping Cullen’s ass while he did, as if waiting for Dorian to object again. Fucking bastard. He was definitely going to set Bull on fire when this… whatever it was, was all over.

“Hmm… this is a decent snack, but I think it’s time for something more substantial.” Bull let go of Cullen’s cheeks and then pulled back from the bed, his dick coming free of Cullen’s mouth with an obscene pop. The qunari opened the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a vial of Dorian’s preferred “fancy ass oil” as Bull called it (pun always intended). Bull’s eye was focused on where Cullen’s hand continued to work, the rough heat of his palm making Dorian feel as if he were falling apart. Bull circled the bed so he was behind Cullen and leaned down to put the bottle next to Dorian’s head. He wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a reminder, a promise, or a torment, though from the look on the qunari’s face, maybe all three. He watched as Bull manhandled Cullen, pulling him to the edge of the bed, so he was bent down right in front of Bull, his face tantalizingly close to Dorian’s over-heated cock.

“I think you know what to do Commander.” Bull rumbled out - right before spreading Cullen’s ass cheeks and burying his face between them. Cullen groaned, long and loud and heartfelt, hand stilling on Dorian as he rested his face on the mage’s thigh, soft curls brushing his tied leg and stubble scraping against his skin. Dorian was pissed… so incredibly pissed at Bull, how fucking DARE he-

Then his thoughts were cut off as Cullen remembered his duties and his mouth began to move over the head of Dorian’s cock. The scarred mouth around him felt so good - hot, wet, _perfect_ \- that light seemed to burst behind his eyes. He strained against the ropes, not even sure what he wanted as Cullen’s surprisingly soft lips and tongue slid down the length of him right to the root. When Cullen swallowed around his head, he began swearing desperately in Tevene, shaking and pulling even harder at his restraints.

Dorian could barely keep his eyes open, but he was so used to following Bull’s commands in bed, _aching_ to follow and be praised, that he did, knowing his lover wanted him to watch. So, he stared down as Cullen sucked him, and then looked over to where Bull was slurping filthily between the other man’s ass cheeks. The sights and sounds were so overwhelming that he was riding the edge of orgasm against his will with incredible speed. Bull gave another obscene lick, his good eye flicking to Dorian as that long, agile tongue of his wretched another moan from Cullen.

“Bull…” Dorian’s voice was hoarse and pleading. He was ashamed, because he should have been angry, but he was so full of need that there was no room for anything else inside him.

“Cullen, off.” The command was gruff but accompanied by a gentle pat to the Commander’s flank. Cullen pulled back off Dorian’s cock, eyes glassy, lips red and swollen, with the faintest hint of sweat on his chest. He was so damn gorgeous it was almost painful. He sat back between Dorian’s legs, not touching himself or the mage, his dick leaking and begging to be licked. Dorian swallowed and closed his eyes, too close to coming to even think about it. His eyes flew right back open when Bull leaned down to kiss him, tongue shoving past his lips. He made a protesting noise, vaguely horrified by the thought of where the other man’s mouth had been, but it subsided to a noise of desperate submission. If Bull knew anything, it was how to kiss Dorian into near madness.

Dorian was slipping back from the edge as the stimulation narrowed to just Bull’s mouth on his. Then the mouth was gone, leaving him panting and hungry, but all Bull did was place a chaste kiss on his forehead before pulling back. Bull picked up the discarded vial of oil and handed it to Cullen with a grin.

“You start prepping that sweet hole of his. He won’t last much longer and I want you inside him when he comes.” The Commander’s smirk returned and he licked his swollen lips, looking down at Dorian as if a starving man might look upon a feast. Dorian rolled his head back and forth on the pillow, straining his legs against the bonds holding him. He didn’t really want to escape, only to find some relief from the desperate need. Instead the pressure and pain of the ropes just seemed to add a counterpoint, more sensation to overwhelm him.

Bull moved onto the bed with that terrifying grace he showed in battle, straddling Dorian, heavy thighs pressed against his chest as he reached down and rubbed one huge thumb over Dorian’s lower lip.

“Now kadan,” he said softly, “I’m going to fuck that gorgeous mouth of yours while Cullen loosens up that tight little ass.”

All he could manage was a whimper as Bull buried his hand in Dorian’s hair and the fat, swollen head of the his cock pressed to his lips. He opened without a protest, and Bull pressed in slowly, murmuring to Dorian, giving him the compliments and encouragement he so craved. It wasn’t the best angle, he couldn’t fully take Bull’s length as he would from a different position, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was the possession and the fullness and the salty taste of him, the faint, lingering scent of another man on him that he wanted to wash away.

He was so intent on his baptism of Bull’s cock that he had forgotten about Cullen, until he felt warm, slick fingers run from his perineum down the cleft of his ass to his entrance. He jerked and Bull’s hand tightened in his hair to hold him in place.

“Relax kadan… you want this, and I want you to do this for me, for us both.” Dorian was shaking but he breathed deep through his nose and tried to follow Bull’s orders, relaxing into the press of fingers against him. They were not as thick or blunt as Bull’s… but when the first tip of a finger breached him it still felt huge somehow. He was lost in sensation, thought fracturing and slipping away from him. He was nothing but his body, anchored by the cock invading his mouth, the heavy muscled thighs braced against his chest, and the clever finger slipping into him.

Cullen was gentle, one hand softly stroking and kneading the cheeks of Dorian’s ass as that one finger massaged around the taut muscle, slipping in and out just a bit, slick and hot. Slowly, it slipped in further, and Cullen crooked his finger up, finding the exact spot to make Dorian moan loud and long against Bull’s cock. He was rewarded with a deep growl, fingers tightening even more in Dorian’s hair, sending pain shooting through his scalp.

One finger became two, sliding and scissoring, pulling him open and pressing over his prostate. Dorian was shaking and moaning as they worked him, and Bull slowed his pace, careful not to overwhelm him. He lost his sense of time as the determined fingers worked him, relaxing and arousing, until a third joined them, and it briefly burned through the edge of pleasure and into pain. Then it was in, and his whole body seemed to relax, open and aching. He rutted against Cullen’s fingers the best he could, but it wasn’t much with his ankles secured. It wasn’t long before he was simply _keening_ around Bull’s cock, driving back up towards orgasm.

Bull knew him so well, it would have disturbed him if he weren’t completely wrecked. As if he saw into Dorian’s addled mind, he pulled back, freeing Dorian’s mouth, turning his great horned head to lean back and kiss Cullen, who rose obediently to meet him.

“It’s time Commander. I want you inside him while I open you up.”

Dorian’s emotions were so wrung out he couldn't even decide how he felt about the whole situation, jealousy, anxiety, lust, fear all swirled inside him, contained by nothing but flushed skin and silken ropes.

“Untie his legs will you? I want leverage… and to feel them around me.” Cullen’s voice was rough and a bit breathless, and Dorian felt vindictively glad that he wasn’t the only one on the verge of falling apart. Bull’s firm hand on his ankle was the next thing he felt, holding him steady as he released the knot on the bed post, deft with practice. It only took a few moments, and then his legs were blessedly free and he was able to stretch and squirm on the bed, loosening stiff muscles.

His autonomy didn’t last long as Cullen moved one muscled arm beneath each of his knees, placing Dorian’s legs so that his calves rested against those broad, pale shoulders. He closed his eyes again, careless of Bull’s orders, the sight of Cullen kneeling between his legs, cock hard and dripping was more than he could handle. He felt hands shift under the cheeks of his ass encouraging him up. He followed willingly, all his reservations slowly being burned away by the overwhelming desire to be filled and find his release.

“Dorian.” Despite all his blushing, Cullen was used to being obeyed. The force he put into Dorian’s name had the mage’s eyes flying open to meet his own. The golden irises were barely more than a ring of light, pupils blown wide with arousal and the low light of the room. Dorian bit his lip under the intensity of his stare, wanting to squirm out of his grasp, but there was no where to go. _No way out but through…_ Cullen lifted his ass, fingers sinking into flesh so hard Dorian knew he would be bruised in the morning, pressing his torso hard against Dorian’s legs so that he could prop him up with just one hand, the other moving between them. Moments later he felt the head of the Commander’s cock pressed against his entrance, and then the heat, the stretch and fullness as he slid all the way into him with one smooth motion.

“Oh FUCK!” was all he could manage before he lost all ability to form words. Bull almost never took him so fast, his size making it necessary to always move carefully to begin with. Cullen had no hesitation - he hammered straight into Dorian, hips snapping tight so that his balls slapped against Dorian’s ass. He was soon biting his lip and whimpering, arms pulling against the ropes at the intensity of it. He triedto be good, tried to keep his eyes open, but it was so hard. Then Bull filled his vision, his face intent on Dorian as he took him with another deep kiss, claiming his mouth, tongue shoving into him in a rhythm that matched Cullen’s, everything in sync. He was moaning helplessly, rushing toward the edge as he felt Bull’s huge hand engulf his cock, warm and slick with oil as he stroked Dorian, a different, slower rhythm than the intrusions into his body.

“So fucking hot Kadan. Hold on for me, no coming until I have my cock up the Commander’s ass.”

Dorian wasn’t sure he could hold on that long, but Cullen slowed, and Bull’s hand left his cock, easing him away from orgasm yet again, Maker damn them both. It was easier to keep his eyes focused on Bull as he moved around Cullen. The man had stopped moving in him entirely, only filling him in the most maddening way. Every twitch of Dorian’s oversensitive body caused him to clench around the cock inside of him.

Cullen looked over his shoulder as Bull approached, murmured something that Dorian couldn’t quite make out, and then leaned forward until his hands were resting on the bed, Dorian folded almost in half beneath him. He had the rather hysterical thought that he was lucky to be so bendy, before Cullen’s eyes clenched shut and his hips jerked slightly, both of them moaning.

“Easy Cullen, easy. Relax.” Dorian could just see the top of Bull’s head, though he knew he must be slowly opening Cullen with those thick, blunt fingers of his, slick with oil and… he groaned and Cullen leaned forward and his mouth took Dorian’s. It was a strange thing, to be kissed by someone other than the Bull, in some ways even stranger that being fucked by someone else. Cullen’s kiss was not shy, but it didn’t claim him the way Bull’s did, it was a teasing thing, nipping at Dorian’s lips before his tongue slid into the mage’s mouth. One hand moved from the bed to slide up his ribs, finding first one nipple and tugging, ring and all, and then the other. Dorian could feel sounds coming from his mouth, but he didn’t know what they were, if they were words or simple cries.

Then Cullen was moving in him again, slowly, and he knew the other man was fucking back onto Bull’s fingers, and he was so aroused and angry again, he bit the Commander hard on the lip. He got a growl for his trouble that made his cock twitch, and then Cullen’s hand was on his throat, not constricting his air, but the threat was there, the strength of the large hand dangerous in its implication.

“Behave.” The command was gruff and guttural, and Dorian bucked his own hips uselessly, trying to build friction against Cullen’s taut, muscular stomach. The hand tightened ever so slightly on Dorian’s throat, and he stilled himself, barely, whimpering with need. Cullen leaned down and kissed him again, leaving his hand in place. They were close enough in height that the Commander could bench his back and kiss Dorian’s shoulder, leaving a trails of bites and licks against the thin skin over his collar bone.

“Are you being bad kadan? If you’re bad I won’t fuck you after Cullen finishes inside you. I’ll leave you tied in place while his cum leaks out of you and then finish on your pretty belly.”

“Fuck you Bull! I will set you on fire!” He was quite impressed with his ability to get the entire threat out, even if it is breathless and high pitched.

“Terrible,” said Cullen. “You need discipline, mage.” One hand tightened on his throat, and the other reached back and pinched him viciously on the the hip, bruising the skin over his iliac crest. He could suck in just enough air to cry out, and then the hand had eased back, and Cullen’s mouth was on his again. The kiss had no tease in it this time, it was demanding and rough, though still very different than Bull’s.

“That’s right Commander, take him in hand.” Cullen snapped his hips again and Dorian was sure another finger has entered the other man. He was so full, so close, so frustrated and needy that he just wanted the Bull to _finish_ , to fuck Cullen until the smaller man lost control, until they would free Dorian and give him his release.

He was not convinced Bull wasn’t reading his mind again. He leaned over over Cullen, grabbing Dorian’s ankles to prevent him from kicking and rumbled. “Are you ready Cullen? Ready to have me inside you?”

“Yes,” and it was impressive that the man could make a word full of sibilants sound so guttural in its need.

Dorian looked up, meeting Bull’s eye over Cullen’s shoulder, still glaring, but oh so hungry. He wished he could actually see Bull’s cock slide into Cullen. He felt it though, felt it in the way Cullen’s whole body seemed to clench tight, his hips pressing into Dorian as his muscles went taut, his head flung back to reveal a long tense line of throat. Bull ran a hand over the tigh, scarred back. “Shhh, little templar, I’ve got you. Just relax. Relax and let me fill you while you’re buried deep in that gorgeous Tevinter ass. Just think what a sightwe make, a basvaarad fucking a ‘vint mage while a Qunari rides you.”

Bull was moving, slowly, inexorably, and Cullen was panting, Dorian whimpering and all of them moving at that slow, sweet, driving rhythm. Bull continued to spout filthy things in that low, low voice, one hand holding Cullen’s hip and pressing against Dorian’s thigh, the other on the Commander’s shoulder. Cullen’s hand moved from Dorian’s throat, both hands forming fists and burying in the mattress on either side of his head. His golden eyes were closed but Dorian managed to keep his open so he could see the sweat form on Cullen’s brow, skin flushed and almost glowing with color in the candle light.

“Did you think of this in Kirkwall? Did you think of some sten bending you over and fucking you until you couldn’t see straight? Someone bigger than you to peel you out of all that armor and take you on your knees?”

The pace quickened and it was Cullen’s turn to lose command of his speech, letting out a long, loud groan. Bull grabbed him around the chest, pulling him back and easing the pressure on Dorian’s legs so he could bite and suck at the freckled skin where Cullen’s shoulder met his neck, mouth working over pale skin while he drove his hips forward shoving him deeper into Dorian. Bull caught Dorian’s eyes, staring at his flushed face as he marked Cullen. He had never been as grateful for Bull’s massive physique as when he reached his other hand down to grip his dick. Dorian nearly sobbed, it felt so good to be touched, Bull’s hand still slick with oil as he worked him in rhythm with their fucking. He was so sensitive that each squeeze of Bull’s hand sent him climbing faster and faster towards orgasm, while Cullen’s new angle sent his thick cock rubbing against Dorian’s prostate with each thrust.

Bull’s mouth separated from Cullen’s shoulder and his voice went so low that it was almost less sound than feeling when he looked Dorian in the eye and simply said “come.” Dorian did, spurting helplessly over Bull’s hand, his own stomach, and Cullen’s heaving chest, vision going white as the desperate strength of his orgasm seemed to press all the air out of his lungs. He felt boneless and strange, disconnected from himself, vaguely aware of Cullen still moving in him, but he seemed to have reached his limit on sensation, as the thrusting barely registered.

What did register was Bull lifting his hand, covered in Dorian’s semen to shove two thick fingers into Cullen’s open mouth. Suddenly, sensation slammed back, and Dorian whimpered as the Commander’s thick cock continued to shift over his prostate, making him shudder as the pleasure quickly approached pain. It didn’t go on for very long though… Cullen let out a muffled shout around Bull’s fingers and slammed into Dorian one last time, trembling and tense as Dorian felt his balls contract and the pulse of the Commander’s seed spurting into him.

Bull was murmuring in Cullen’s ear, butDorian couldn’t make it out, his senses still fuzzy from the sensation overload. A large grey hand ran over Dorian’s stomach, gathering more of his spend, and then putting the fingers in his own mouth, sucking them clean as his eye bored into Dorian’s. He could only whimper as his body fought with itself, arousal and lethargy each attempting to control him.

Cullen made a protesting noise above him and he saw Bull moving back, no doubt pulling out of the other man. Dorian was familiar with that strange emptiness, the feeling of loss, of being open and vulnerable after Bull was through with him. Bull gently shifted Cullen down onto the bed so that he was laying on his back, half propped against Dorian. Cullen’s flushed face was nestled into his shoulder, kissing and nibbling at the tender flesh there, as his curls brushed the inside of Dorian’s bicep. Unbelievably, arousal began to win the battle against lethargy.

Hands on his ankles drew Dorian’s attention back down the bed. Bull was still hard, the engorged length of him glistening with slick, and once against arousal spiked. It didn’t feel like it should even be possible, as if there should be no blood left in his body to fill and make him hard again, and yet the site of Bull seemed to be lifting him back from the beyond as sure as one of Dorian’s own spells. His legs were pushed apart, his right leg draped over Cullen’s tangled limbs, the other pushed up none to gently against the sheets as Bull used that same wet hand to slide against the cleft of Dorian’s ass, coming away with his fingertips coated in Cullen’s come. He leaned forward and held the fingers close to Dorian’s lips.

“Taste kadan.” Dorian did as instructed, darting his tongue out to lick at the salty fluid, and Cullen moaned against his shoulder.

“Fuck Bull, you’re killing me.” It was the first full sentence that Dorian had heard from the Commander in some time. His voice was almost unrecognizable, grown rough from his exclamations of pleasure. Bull grinned down at the two of them, coming forward on his knees to place himself closer, and Dorian’s thigh muscles clenched at the incredible heat of Bull’s body between them.

“Dorian, you were so good, I’m going to fuck you now. Finish off inside you, leave you full of me and Cullen both.”

He could feel the head of the Bull’s cock pressed against his hole, still open and loose, and he whimpered at the filthiness of it all, his own cock twitching in a valiant attempt to rise to the occasion. He let out a rather hysterical giggle at his own addled thoughts, cutting off with a desperate gasp as Bull slid straight in, foregoing his normal cautious entry. He wasn’t rough, but his movements were sure and committed, and Dorian could barely breathe for the feeling of fullness and pressure and oh _MakersavemeAndrastepreserveme…_

Bull was rocking into him, slow, steady, firm, and Cullen’s hands and mouth were moving again, his teeth finding Dorian’s nipple while the other slipped over the sticky plains of his chest. His mouth was rough, biting, teasing, worrying at him while his hand was sweet and gentle, tracing across his ribs, over his navel, and rubbing gently at his hip.

It was too much. He let his head fall back against the pillows, closing his eyes, unable to take any more visual stimulation. He concentrated on touch - the way Cullen’s hands felt on his skin, calloused but gentle, and the inexorable force of Bull moving slowly in and out of him. The pleasure-pain of too much stimulation was slowly ascending into pure pleasure again, far sooner than he would have thought possible. His mixed emotions receded, washed away by his own orgasm and the familiar feeling of being fucked by the Iron Bull, claimed and filled and held tight, the extra presence of Cullen merely a grace note to the central melody of their normal song.

Bull was close, Dorian could tell even with his eyes closed and his own body striving towards something he wasn’t even convinced he could achieve. He could feel the giant muscles growing even more tense under his leg, felt blunt fingers pressing hard into the skin of his thigh. He wasn’t sure where Bull’s other hand was, and he didn’t care. His hips hitched as he tried to rock harder against his cock despite the strange angle of his own legs. He heard a deep, rumbling chuckle and then felt Bull’s hand move down to his hip, fingers gripping tight enough to cause a delicious ache as they pressed into his tender skin over the same place Cullen had clutched earlier.

“Open your eyes kadan, and tell me what you want.” He groaned. He couldn’t, there was no way he could watch Bull move above him. He could feel his cock stirring even now, and it was ridiculous. The man could play his body better than that fool bard in the tavern played her lute. It was completely unfair how long the Qunari could hold out before he came, while Dorian shattered to pieces beneath him.

“Dorian.” His name was sharper this time, an order, and he responded automatically, his eye flying open as Bull snapped his hips forward. He had been right, the sight of Bull over him sent his cock twitching, half hard and only growing harder still. When he noticed that the hand Bull didn’t have on him was curled around Cullen’s cock, also quickly beginning to stand at attention, it was unbearably hot.

“Tell me...” Bull growled as he pulled almost fully out of Dorian “...what...” His hips snapped back shoving him into him to the root, balls slapping against the cleft of his ass. “...you want!”

Dorian _wailed_ at the feeling of being filled, the command in Bull’s voice driving him mad with desire.

“I want you to fuck my ass _hard_ , and I want Cullen to fuck my mouth!” The sentence tumbled out of its own volition, Dorian was sure of it. There was no way, even in the throws of passion that he would confess something so wanton and filthy. He let out a whimper of embarrassment, wanting to turn away but caught by Bull’s intent, one-eyed stare. His single pupil was blown wide, the dancing light in the room making his grey iris look almost violet. He let out a growl, pulling scarred lips back from sharp teeth.

“Do it Cullen.” he ordered, letting go of the other man’s cock. Cullen responded with alacrity, and surprising grace for a man who’d been fucked silly by a Qunari. He positioned himself carefully over Dorian, knees spread wide as he lowered himself into a position that would let him move as freely as possible. Dorian realized his mouth was already open, breath coming in pants as Bull increased his pace, his careful rhythm turning into something brutal and pounding and so fucking good.

Cullen smirked down at him, one hand bracing on the headboard and the other fisting in Dorian’s utterly wrecked hair, holding his head still as he slipped the head of his cock between his lips. Golden eyes fluttered shut as he began to thrust carefully into Dorian’s mouth, his brow creased in obvious concentration. His pace was slower than Bull’s, but no more forgiving as he slid in until he hit the back of Dorian’s throat, only stopping when he heard the mage choke and gag. The relief he felt as Cullen pulled out again and let him breath was short lived as he thrust back in deep again. Dorian could only concentrate on breathing through his nose and holding on as the salty, bitter taste of the invading cock and Bull’s brutal pace sent him spiraling toward a second orgasm at incredible speed.

Tears were in his eyes, blurring the sight of Cullen biting his lip and concentrating on each thrust, but he could still hear the Bull fucking him and the slurping sounds of his own open mouth. Bull was growling in earnest now, a low, deep, constant sound broken only by the occasional gasp or swear word in Common or Qunlat. His fingers were still boring into Dorian’s hip and he had no doubt there would be bruises on his skin in the morning, vivid purple against the smooth brown. The other hand wrapped around his cock and he groaned around Cullen, causing the other man to echo him, their voices making a harmony of pleasure.

The pace Bull set as he tugged Dorian off was as fast and rough as his thrusts in his ass, and he was suddenly close, so close, once more teetering at the edge of that cliff, ready to dive right off. There was a sound from Bull that could only have been described as a roar, and then he gave one last vicious thrust before Dorian felt his balls tighten against his ass and the throbbing tickle of his come spurting inside him. His hand stopped moving and _squeezed_ , thumb pressed right against the sensitive spot right at the underside of Dorian’s glans. His whole body seemed to seize, his ass clenched tight enough to wretch a moan from Bull, and then all his senses went blank as his second orgasm hit him, racking his body and leaving him limp as the waves of pleasure receded.

Feeling came back suddenly as Cullen’s fingers gripped tight in his hair, pain making him all too aware of his body as the blond let out a shout over him and then filled his mouth with the salty bitterness of his spend. He swallowed convulsively around the softening cock and Cullen pulled away from him with a hiss, apparently over sensitive to the touch. Dorian blinked and licked his lips, feeling lightheaded and a bit bereft, but then Cullen shifted position, leaning down to give him a hard, thorough kiss, tongue delving in to taste the remains of his own orgasm. It would certainly have been arousing had there been any chance in the Void that Dorian was not completely incapable of any more arousal, but as it was he simply found it oddly comforting.

Not comforting was the feeling of Bull easing out of him. He was open and loose, dripping, filthy, and starting to be able to feel the soreness in his ass and legs, not to mention his arms, which he thought might actually cramp if they ever got the strength to do so. He twitched his legs back together, feeling the mild burn in his joints and flexing lightly to try and ease his aching muscles.

Cullen pulled back, climbing carefully off of him as he gave Dorian a sated, sleepy smile and stroked his fingers gently through the mage’s hair. Dorian must have been fully addled from his vigorous fucking, because Cullen’s golden irises had that same odd, violet tinge that Bull’s eye had had. He sighed and then coughed as the other man rolled off of him, collapsing on his side.

He could see Bull standing next to the bed now that Cullen had moved, and Dorian wiggled his fingers to draw attention to his still tied hands.

“Ropes,” he croaked out. Bull grinned down at him.

“All right baby, since you were so damn good.” He reached down and deftly untied the ropes from the bed, gently lowering Dorian’s arms by the wrists. He groaned as blood rushed back to his limbs with the painful prick of pins and needles. Bull quickly untied and removed the ropes from Dorian’s wrists and tossed them over his shoulder before moving cautiously onto the bed. He laid down on his back and manhandled Dorian’s body until he laid half over his massive chest. Cullen curled up behind him, a warm, hard presence against his back, one hand stroking over his hip.

“Ah Dorian, you really are magnificent.” Bull rumbled, planting a kiss on his head. “Such incredible, unrelenting desire. Delicious.”

Well that was… different. Bull certainly enjoyed praising him in bed, but that wasn’t quite the way he normally did it. He started to speak and then had to stop for a small cough, his throat still abused from the two cocks he had managed to swallow throughout the evening.

“I hardly think I’m the one whose desires are unrelenting. _You_ are the one who not only tied me up without asking, but brought a _guest_ without an invitation.” He felt Cullen chuckle against his shoulder, lips brushing over Dorian’s skin.

“Oh, but we wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t what _you_ desired Dorian.” Cullen’s voice was slightly muffled by his skin but he could still hear something… off about it. Why in the Maker’s name were they babbling about desire so damn much? They sounded like a couple of…

“Oh for FUCK’S SAKE!” He shouted angrily, sitting up in the replica of the Bull’s bed, rage burning away any imagined weariness. “I should have fucking known. I should have known!”

Bull and Cullen exchanged a look, both of them grinning, their teeth just a touch too sharp, eyes lit with violet light.

“Stop wearing them right now. Right now you assholes.” And then the Iron Bull and Cullen shivered, images wavering before his eyes to be replaced by the desire demons he had finally realized they were. Of course. Of _course_ that’s what they were, of course he was dreaming. The Iron Bull would never have just shoved an experience like this on him with no say and no negotiation. And how had he not realized it? His eyes narrowed, and he realized he recognised the larger of the two demons, the one who had worn Bull’s face.

“You! You piece of shit, I know you!” The demon laughed. He was exceptionally beautiful, large, with an impressively curved set of horns, completely different from Bull’s, capped in gold, his perfect chest crossed with more golden chains and charms. He was quite naked, except for that jewelry, and Dorian was a little alarmed to notice the jewelry seemed to extend to the demon’s impressive cock, which was actually erect. His skin was a deep, rich lavender, a color he had appreciated more during his first visit to the fade, the last time the demon had tried to seduce him.

“You are so rude, my pretty little mage. Here we’ve had such a lovely time together, and you’re spouting insults! Just think Dorian, if you gave yourself to me, we could make this actually happen. Even in your sleep you provide an incredible feast, our power would be unparalleled.” The demon smiled and the smaller demon wiggled against him, drawing Dorian’s attention. He hadn’t known that demons ever worked together, but the smaller one seemed perfectly happy to let Dorian’s demon control the conversation.

In fact, the other demon, whose horns were much smaller and bore no decoration, seemed completely blissed out, like someone who had just indulged in a delicious meal and entirely too much wine. Wonderful - his wild fantasies had proved an over indulgence for a demon. That was just perfect.

“Never.” Was his only reply. He began to gather himself, pulling at the power around him in the Fade, preparing to obliterate the two of them and return to his own body.

“Oh, none of that little one!” The larger demon was on him in an instant, trapping Dorian’s hands in his great clawed ones and pulling full, sensual lips back over frankly terrifying fangs. “You have provided a truly epic meal for us, so I will show you mercy, but don’t think you can win in my realm.”

“Mmmm… are we done with this one? We should go find that lovely Commander. He’s so ravaged already he’ll be easy prey, especially after this one tormented him earlier.” Dorian felt a spike of rage tempered with guilt and gathered his mana again. Threat be damned, he was an Altus mage of Tevinter, and he feared no demon, not even in his sleep. The demon on top of him hissed something strange and sibilant at the smaller one, but leapt off Dorian as he felt the mage gather his power, disappearing right before Dorian blasted the smaller one with a blast of flame. The thing shrieked in pain and terror, engulfed by flame, and he felt a vicious smile stretch his lips as he reached back inside himself to draw forth more power. He was going to destroy them for both for this, he just needed -

“Dorian!” His eyes flew open at the sound of panic in Bull’s voice. Bull’s hands were on his shoulders, gently shaking him, and Dorian realized his own hands were engulfed in flames.

He extinguished the flames and shoved himself away from the Bull with speed borne of fear and confusion, heart pounding. The room was dark except for the light coming in from the small window in the thick stone wall of Bull’s room and the banked fire in the small hearth they kept lit for warmth. Dorian stood panting, letting fear and anger recede slightly as he gasped in air.

“Bull?” His voice was small and uncertain, still wrapped in the confusion of the Fade.

“I’m here kadan, seemed like you were having one hell of a dream.” Bull stood still and cautious across the room from him, the bed between them, and his hands spread wide and low in a placating position. Dorian’s breath hitched as he stared fiercely into Bull’s eye, looking for signs of violet light. Everything about him was sharper, clearer, rougher than it had been in the Fade and he took a deep breath in relief at realizing how easy it was to tell the difference now that he was awake. Fucking fade, Fucking DEMONS.

“ _Vishante kaffas_ ,” he exclaimed with feeling, letting his hands drop. They were both naked, and he could remember exactly how he had gotten that way, after an evening of jokes and drinking in the Rest with the Chargers and Varric. The dwarf had been in fine form, telling stories about Hawke, who had left only a few days before, Alistair in tow. Bull had thrown him a couple of teasing looks when Alistair was mentioned in regard to Hawke’s journey, and then had proceeded to take him upstairs and make him forget snarky Wardens and blushing, blond ex-Templars. Unfortunately, he had apparently remembered at least one of them in his sleep.

“Can I touch you now, or will I get myself flambeed like an Orlesian dessert?” Bull’s voice was low and calm, obviously trying not to startle or agitate him any more than he already was. Dorian shook his head in the negative, not sure he was capable of speaking in anything but curses yet. How had he not noticed sooner? How had he let himself be taken in by those… _creatures._ How had he let himself _enjoy_ it?

“OK, kadan.” Bull sat down on the bed, folding one massive leg under himself for support, half perched as he looked at Dorian. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Dorian shook his head again. He didn’t want to talk about it, and he didn’t want to think about it. He felt… filthy. It certainly wasn’t the first erotic dream he had had about the Bull. They’d been plaguing him since he’d first met the man, but not every dream was controlled by demons and not every dream felt so real and so depraved. He was quite fond of depraved under the right circumstances but this had been… no. Not right. He not only felt filthy he felt… unfaithful, like he had cheated on Bull, letting desire for another man grow strong enough that it could be used against him.

Bull sat calmly on the bed, waiting. He knew from experience the qunari would simply wait, patiently, long past the time Dorian would have lost his composure and demanded answers or action, and he was incredibly grateful for that calm. Unfortunately the gratitude he felt just added to the strange guilt. It was only a dream, dammit; it hadn’t happened. Why in Andraste’s name was he such a mess over the whole thing?

He sat down on the bed, his back to Bull, trying to decide what to do or say. He could feel that serious gaze on his back, though Bull didn’t move. Dorian sighed. This was simply ridiculous.

“I had a very…” he tried to think of a single word that could encompass the arousal, anxiety and anger of his dream and fell short. “...vivid dream, involving two desire demons.”

Bull made a sound, a sort of encouraging grunt but didn’t say anything. Dorian’s hands squeezed tight over his own bare knees, digging into the flesh. He realized he was still half hard and clenched his jaw angrily for a moment.

“They were… well they looked like you and Cullen.”

“Oh…” Just the one word, drawn out, but somehow Bull imbued it with more understanding than should be possible. Suddenly, Dorian was overcome with the need to touch him, to feel his real skin and muscle and heat under his hands. He turned, climbing onto the bed and wrapped his arms around Bull’s chest, pressing his burning cheek into his massive shoulder.

“It felt very real.” His voice was soft, and he didn’t like how shaky it felt. “And it was very… intense. And Cullen was there and I…” His voice trailed off. No, there is no way he could talk about this. Bull’s arm came around him and the next thing he knew he was being shifted, manhandled in that ludicrously easy way Bull had, until he was sitting curled across muscular thighs, head tucked under Bull’s, feeling stubble catch in his rumpled hair.

“Kadan, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want, you know that. And let’s face it, if they were desire demons and me and Cullen were there, I can pretty much figure out how that probably went down.” Dorian shuddered and turned his head to press into the Bull’s throat. It felt so good to touch him. He realized he smelled completely different in reality than he had in the Fade, not the strange spicy bitter scent of demon, but the musk and metal scent that was very distinctly Bull.

“I… was angry. I thought you had brought Cullen without asking my permission. But I went along with it, I never even tried to use my watchword I just let him…” He couldn’t finish, feeling shame bubble up from his stomach.

“Shh.” One of Bull’s hands began to gently stroke his back, while the other came up to smooth his hair. “It was a dream Dorian. Not even a normal dream, you had to deal with a couple of fucking _demons.”_ The way the word left his mouth sounded like vile curse, and Dorian gave a huff that might have been laughter under different circumstances.

“I feel like I cheated on you.” He was horrified the minute it came out of his mouth, it sounded so ridiculous, but there it was. That’s why he was so upset, because if Bull wasn’t the one who initiated their imaginary threesome, then it was simply Dorian’s own overheated desires that lead to it.

 _“The only one whose bed I want to be in is yours, amatus. I don’t want to be with anyone else.”_ Except that apparently hadn’t been true. The demons had managed to find his secret desire and use it against him.

Bull chuckled. Dorian pulled back from his hold and glared up at him. How dare he laugh!

“Silly ‘Vint.” He kissed Dorian sweetly on the forehead, scarred lips lingering. “I’m glad you care kadan, but I don’t want you ripping yourself apart for a dream. Shit, I was there in the dream right? So it can’t really count.”

“Of course, because having another man with his cock in my ass couldn’t possibly be considered inappropriate as long as you’re there to watch!” Dorian poked hard into the soft layer of fat over Bull’s muscular stomach. Then his eyes went wide as he felt the unmistakable press of Bull’s growing erection against his backside. His eyes flew to Bull’s, going wide.

“No! Bull you are a _deviant_!” His tone was indignant but the edge of shame was beginning to wear down against his lover’s utter nonchalance and obvious interest.

“Nah, just horny.” He grinned despite Dorian’s pained groan. Why did the idiot man NEVER tire of that pun? “But you knew that about me already. You even like it when you let yourself. Nothing wrong with a fantasy kadan, it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“Would you… actually want something like that?” He couldn’t quite believe he was even asking after all of the mixed emotions of the dream and his feelings of shame about the whole thing. Yet that was part of what had always drawn him to Bull, the feeling that what he wanted, what he craved was safe. It wasn’t terrible or wrong, despite what he was taught to believe. His desires were safe with Bull, safer than in his own head apparently.

“Well I mean obviously I think it’s pretty fucking hot, and there are way worse people to imagine fucking you than Cullen, but I’d only want it if I were sure it was something you’d enjoy.” Thick fingers tilted his chin up so that he could see Bull’s face in the faint light of the dying fire. “But you can bet that gorgeous ass of yours I’d talk to you about it before hand, and make sure we had discussed exactly what you wanted. What we do together, what you want, what you need, I’m never going to decide that without you kadan. You gave me your trust, and I’m not going to betray that.”

Bull’s stare was intense, his face sincere, and Dorian felt something knotted and painful inside him loosen. Of course it also left him with a lump in his throat, so he simply nodded and leaned forward, tucking his head under Bull’s chin. He was so relieved to be awake, so glad to have Bull’s steadying presence around him that he didnt’ even mind the tears that rolled down his cheeks. Bull made a comfortable rumbling sound in the back of his throat and stroked thick fingers through Dorian’s rumpled hair.

“So… you gonna share all the naughty details, or do I have to make something up?” He could hear the man grinning, the great idiot. He laughed, tucked himself into a more comfortable position and proceeded to share all of the explicit details of his dream. After all, there was nothing wrong with a fantasy.


	4. Check

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian isn't the only one with temptation issues...

Even in Cullen’s dreams the Inquisitor was elusive. She stood before him, fierce and beautiful, her hair freed from its tight braid, flowing and wild. Her skin was adorned with scars and ink, the metal of piercings and the Mark burned on her hand. Her tattoos and hair were all she wore, winding white lines across cinnamon brown skin, pale eyes blazing at him as she looked coldly down to where he knelt at her feet, waiting. He wasn’t sure what he waited for, but he knew he’d only receive what he needed if he waited patiently. Snow and rocks pressed painfully beneath his knees, his own skin bare as hers, cold seeping through every inch of him.

She raised her left hand, Mark blazing, and grinned, revealing sharp white teeth. Her hand came down to touch his forehead and she laughed, dark and smoky, a sound he had heard on the battlefield, the call of her bloodlust. His head exploded in pain at her touch, fear making him tremble and sweat despite the cold. He wanted to move, wanted to shriek and push her away, but he was stuck fast, all of her power pressed into him as she tore him apart from the inside out…

He shot straight up in bed, gasping for air, head splitting with a headache that felt like a band of iron squeezing him. His chest ached with some emotion he wasn’t sure he could identify, and he shivered like a fly-stung horse as he clutched at the twisted linens of his bed.

There was a soft noise of concern from the warm body next to him in bed, and he froze, suddenly panicked.

“Are you alright, amatus?” Dorian’s head appeared over the covers he had been hidden beneath, mustache askew and hair mussed from sleep. Cullen stared, shocked. Why on earth was Dorian in his bed? His heart was beating a mile a minute. Dorian blinked at him, blue-grey eyes sleepy but concerned. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart rate.

“Cullen?” One warm, strong hand traced along his shoulder and suddenly, he felt much better. The dream had obviously been disturbing if it made him forget his own _lover._ He opened his eyes and gave a half smile to the concerned mage.

“Sorry love, go back to sleep.” He turned and gave the hand on his shoulder a kiss. Dorian raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow at him.

“Why yes, let me just wander off to the Fade to have tea and cake with demons after you’ve come awake gasping and panicked. Certainly that’s likely.”

Despite his feeling of disquiet, Cullen felt his lip twitch into a smile. Dorian did sarcasm so very well. 

“You spend so little time getting to sleep in a bed, I don’t want to disturb your rest.” Cullen explained quietly

Dorian sat up, letting the covers fall away to reveal his bare chest. The slender golden rings in his nipples gleamed in the moonlight coming in through the hole in the roof, and Cullen swallowed. Perhaps someday he would stop feeling these spikes of lust whenever he saw part of Dorian’s bare body, but he rather doubted it. Those gorgeous arms, all warm brown skin and lean muscle wrapped around him, and he felt the brush of silky black hair against his shoulder.

“Was it… was it Kinloch again?” Dorian’s voice was soft, lacking its usual teasing bravado, filled instead with carefully moderated concern.

“No, it was…” He thought of Lavellan and her bone-white hair, terrible smile and bare body. For all the fear and pain, the image was more enticing than he really wanted to admit, especially to Dorian. Still, he wouldn’t hide from the man he loved. “It was the Inquisitor actually. She was…naked, and her Mark was glowing. I knelt at her feet, and I was naked, too, in the snow. She laughed and put the Mark to my head and the pain was so intense I woke up.”

He felt Dorian’s arms tighten around him and closed his eyes, afraid to see recrimination on the mage’s beautiful face.

“Well, I suppose being tortured by a naked Inquisitor is a change of pace. I can’t decide if I’m concerned that you dream of her attacking you, or that you were both naked. I greatly disapprove.” He gave Cullen’s shoulder a playful bite that sent a shiver straight down his spine. Dorian chuckled when he felt the shiver against him.

Cullen finally turned to look at him and found those gorgeous eyes staring back intently. Dorian’s perfect lips began to tug into a wicked smile, the fluffy disarray of his mustache making it all the more appealing somehow.

“I think you should make it up to me amatus, letting yourself be seduced by my best friend in your dreams.”

“She wasn’t seducing me! She was... “ What on earth had she been doing? Attacking him? Even with the pain that didn’t quite feel right.

“Cullen, you’re missing the point.” Dorian nuzzled at his neck, teeth grazing chilled skin and Cullen let out a desperate breath. “What I’m saying is, you should atone for your dream adultery.”

He tried to think of a coherent response, a rebuttal to the accusation of cheating, but the tip of Dorian’s tongue darted out against the soft spot behind his ear, and all that came out was a groan. Those slender brown fingers fisted in his hair, turning him so that Dorian’s lips could claim his own, so soft and full they were maddening, the brush of his mustache a distracting tickle as it scraped over his own stubble. He opened his lips to the exploratory touch of the mage’s tongue, wrapping his arms around Dorian’s waist for support as his head spun. 

Dorian’s kisses were like miracles, pulling him out of himself, soothing his pain and longing, replacing it with a new kind of need. He made a small, desperate sound, once again unsure what he was waiting for, but knowing he needed it.

Dorian seemed to know though. His hands came up to Cullen’s shoulder, firmly pressing him back to the sheets. While the ex-Templar was physically the stronger of the two, Dorian’s arms and shoulders were broad and strong from years of wielding a heavy staff and months of scrambling over the wilderness with Lavellan. He found himself more than happy to submit to Dorian’s physical and verbal instructions, relieved to let go of some of the responsibility that burdened him day to day.

“Relax amatus.” Dorian straddled him, warm and naked and glorious above him. He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss over each of Cullen’s eyelids, urging them closed with the delicate weight of his lips. “I will take my payment in your pleasure.”

He kept his eyes closed as that talented mouth moved down his chest, pausing to pay extra attention to the scars that marred his skin. Dorian ran his tongue across the deep thick scar on his side where a mage’s bladed staff had slid through a loose strap on his armor and nearly ended his time as Knight Commander of Kirkwall. The nerves were mostly destroyed, the feeling barely there, and yet the warmth of Dorian’s mouth across a place that still pained him felt unimaginably good.

Dorian continued his meandering path down Cullen's chest, across his belly, stopping to flick his tongue into his navel, making him huff out an involuntary chuckle. His eyes opened without conscious thought and Dorian winked at him, never lifting his mouth from his pale skin. When his tongue began to lave at the line of dark blond hair that trailed to his groin, Cullen caught his breath. He was fast growing hard, though Dorian hadn’t so much as breathed in the direction of his cock, the teasing bastard.

“Hmm… what a lovely little nest. I wonder what kind of creature might live here?” Cullen made an indignant noise and Dorian blew on the thatch of curls above his cock. He was fairly certain Dorian couldn’t read minds, but damn if the man didn’t know exactly what he thought in bed. Black lacquered nails tipped in gold slid through the hair, scraping oh so gently again skin, making him buck in desperation against the sensation. He was fully erect now and he could see a bead of pre-cum forming at the head of his cock. Dorian was grinning at him, that gorgeous mouth of his mere inches away from where Cullen wanted it so desperately.

“The kind you should suck immediately, mage, if you know what’s good for you.” He growled.

“Oh ho, giving orders now? But you forget that you aren’t the Commander in here amatus.” The grin slid into a wicked smirk, and those perfectly manicured nails dug sharply into the tender skin of his hips. He gasped and made a noise that was unmistakably a whimper, biting his lip to suppress any other sounds. “On to your belly my little lion cub.”

Dorian did not lead an army, but spending his entire life being obeyed by those around him had left him with a knack for giving commands. His voice was like silk over steel, and the soldier in Cullen responded without thought. He turned over, burying his flushed face in his pillow, rutting against the bed for what little friction it provided.

“Oh, none of that now cub!” A sharp, stinging slap on the ass was his punishment for his transgression, and he couldn't help but moan at the contact. “Hips up, you’ll take your pleasure when you earn it, and not before.”

Cullen shifted his knees up further under him to keep his hips up, his cock hanging hot and aching between his thighs. Dorian’s fingertips rubbed up the backs of his thighs, cruelly gentle, and stopped at the curve of his buttocks. He knew what would come next, and he ached for it. When the next stinging slap crossed his backside, he felt a shiver of pleasure through his entire body. He knew the punishment wouldn't last long - Dorian’s hands were strong but without something to use as a paddle, the sting in his hand would annoy him long before Cullen had reached his limit. His hot house flower much preferred to give pain than receive it. Cullen, with his Templar training and warrior’s endurance, was happy to submit to those desires.

Another slap, this time at a different angle, spreading the burn of impact over more of his ass. He wanted to rut against the bed, but knew Dorian would simply find a more imaginative way to make him suffer if he did, so he bit his lip harder and simply let the moans and whimpers ride at the back of his throat.

The slaps came hard and fast after that, a rhythm and pattern known only to the mage. The pain burned into pleasure and the ache of his cock only grew. He knew he would be slick and sticky when Dorian finally chose to touch him. The mage continued, blows erratic but strong, for longer than Cullen anticipated, and he keened, feeling tears form at the edge of his eyes as his skin began to grow oversensitized. Just when he thought it would become more than he could bear, Dorian stopped, fingertips stroking gently against his skin, the faintest tingle of magic making them cold and soothing. The fingers were followed by gentle kisses over aching flesh, a tongue sliding out to trace wet, hot circles over him. He let out a sob when Dorian sucked the tender flesh into his mouth, teeth sinking into his skin and causing the pain to gather and peak in one spot.

“My cub you are so perfect. So patient.” Dorian’s voice was low and gentle as his hands moved to stroke over Cullen’s back. He felt the other man’s thighs pressing between his, and the heat of skin on skin made him moan. Dorian bent forward, the damp skin of his chest pressed against Cullen’s sweat-soaked back. One beringed hand slid gently up his neck and into his blond hair, his curls no doubt wild and unruly from the sweat beading on his scalp. The fingers tightened, pulling his head up sharply and making him gasp with pain. “Do you want me inside of you Cullen?”

“Yes! Maker, yes, please Dorian.” Behind him Dorian pressed close, grinding his hard cock into the cleft of Cullen’s ass. He could feel the ladder of gold studs climbing the mage's cock as separate points of contact, little nubs of smooth hardness and velvet skin. How a man who didn't like pain managed to have his cock pierced repeatedly, as well as several other gorgeous parts of his body, was still a mystery to Cullen, but he didn’t care because the feeling of those little gold balls was exquisite. He received a pat on his flank for his eagerness, and then Dorian’s heat was gone from him as the mage sauntered over to the small chest of drawers Cullen kept in his room, expertly digging out a bottle of oil from where it hid discreetly behind shirts and breeches. 

Cullen turned his head to watch Dorian walk back to the bed, all smooth brown skin over muscle, punctuated by gold jewelry and a wicked smile. His cock was gorgeous, thick and hard and decorated with those beautiful gold piercings, head glistening with pre-cum. He carefully placed the oil on the little table beside the bed, and proceeded to pull off his rings one at a time, each movement deliberate and graceful. Cullen knew what those fingers were going to do to him and his hips bucked of their own volition at the thought.

“So impatient, amatus.” Dorian leaned down, stroking fingers along Cullen’s jaw, tilting his head up at an awkward angle so that he could kiss him. He opened his lips eagerly to the kiss, wanting Dorian to claim him, but instead it was a slow, teasing thing, the barest hint of tongue, lips soft and sweet against him when what he wanted was passion and violence. Still he pressed into it, longing for any and all contact with his beloved. “Don’t worry, I will make sure you are well taken care of, my little lion cub.”

Dorian pulled away, and Cullen bit his abused lip once more to keep from whining a protest he knew would get him nowhere. He took deep breaths, closing his eyes, shivering in longing as he waited for whatever Dorian would do next. He heard Dorian walk away, around to the end of the bed. The mattress dipped as he climbed on, one hand bracing on Cullen’s hip. He couldn't tell exactly what the mage was doing, but he could feel that he was moving. When he felt soft lips and silky hair brush the skin of his arse again, he sighed in relief just to be touched. Tongue, lips, and teeth traveled across his skin, ending in a kiss right at the top of his cleft. He tensed, and Dorian stroked a soothing hand down his thigh, murmuring words Cullen didn’t understand, but which sounded like endearments.

Then, Dorian’s hands were pressed firmly against the cheeks of his ass, spreading them and digging into the sore flesh. His tongue stroked broad and flat over Cullen’s puckered hole, making him cry out, the stimulation so intense his legs trembled. Dorian chuckled against his flesh, and began in earnest to work his hot, wet tongue against the circle of muscle, coaxing it open. He took his time, alternating wide strokes and spearing the tip past the rim, wriggling inside and driving Cullen mad. He gave up trying to moderate the sounds he made, letting go entirely, moans, pleading, whimpers, all spilling involuntarily from his lips as Dorian pulled him apart with that clever, glorious tongue.

When Dorian pulled away from him with a sound that was very nearly a purr, Cullen whined, not nearly enough self control left to care how desperate he sounded. The sounds earned him a gentle pat on the hip before he lost contact again. Gentle movements behind him, the mattress shifting under Dorian’s weight, and then the hands were back and one long finger slid into him, crooking up at just the right angle to press against his prostate. He ground his hips back, desperate for more, but Dorian just laughed and clutched his ass with his other hand, holding him firmly in place and continuing to press into cullen with slow, deliberate strokes. His mind went blank in a haze of arousal as one finger became two, became three, and he was _aching,_ his cock so hard it was nearly painful.

“Please, please, please, Dorian oh Maker’s breath _please._ ” He could voice nothing but a string of begging and curses, wanting nothing more than Dorian’s cock inside him, his hands wrapped around Cullen’s own length, to rise over the peak of his orgasm with his lover buried deep inside him. 

Dorian laughed, but the sound was strained, as if his own self control was fraying, and it was a relief to hear, to know he was not the only one being affected so completely.

“I do believe you have earned your pleasure, amatus. Such a good little cub.” Cullen gave a thankful sob, tucking his face into the crook of his elbow. Hands slid up and down his back soothingly as Dorian positioned himself behind him and between his legs, encouraging him to spread his knees just a little wider. He obeyed with alacrity, wiggling into position, feeling the strain in his knees after being on them for so long. 

“Mmmm… you do have the most gorgeous ass. Are you ready for me Cullen?” One hand braced on Cullen’s hip and the other had stopped touching him, no doubt positioning Dorian right above his entrance.

“ _Yes_.” Cullen’s tone was reverent as he sank into his need completely. He felt the head of Dorian’s cock nudge at his entrance and he wanted nothing more than to push back into it, but he resisted, knowing his lover would simply make him wait if he did. For a moment they stayed poised, Cullen waiting, shivering with need and Dorian just pressing the velvety head of his cock to where he knew his lover wanted it most. Then, the mage gave a sigh and began to slowly press himself in. Cullen could feel each one of those magnificent piercings slide over the tight band of muscle, and he was gasping and whimpering by the time Dorian had seated himself completely, his balls pressed against Cullen’s backside. 

Dorian began to move, rhythm as smooth as a dancer’s, and it felt incredible. It felt even more incredible when he bent over Cullen’s back, pace not slacking at all, and began to stroke his neglected cock. The feel of those slender fingers around him was so good, he let out a wordless shout, back arching involuntarily. Dorian laughed, breathy and pleased in his ear. 

“Hold on, amatus, no coming without my permission. Can you do that little cub?”

Cullen wasn’t entirely sure, not with Dorian’s hand dipping low to cup his balls, then sliding back up, slick with oil, to tease his slit with just a fingertip. He took a deep breath, knowing the only right answer, and clutched at his self control as best he could.

“Yes, Dorian.” He breathed, bracing his arms against being shoved right into the headboard. Dorian’s rhythm was slow and steady, sweet torture when all Cullen wanted was for him to drive into him, hard and fast and desperate. He wanted to feel Dorian come undone above him, breath ragged, arms shaking. He clenched tight, daring to push back against the delicious intrusion of Dorian’s cock, and was rewarded with a stuttering breath and a Tevene curse. He smiled secretly to himself as he felt the mage begin to increase his pace. The hand on his cock began to apply more pressure, tugging faster and turning Cullen’s smile into a grimace as he tried to hold himself back, fight against the urge to let go and spill over Dorian’s fingers. He bit his forearm, desperate to anchor himself and please his lover by holding out as long as he had to. 

Finally, Dorian increased his pace, slamming into him, and Cullen could hear the mage’s breath coming in heavy gasps above him. Dorian shifted position, taking his hand off Cullen’s dick and holding fiercely to his hips. He mourned the loss of the stimulation to his cock, but the new angle had the head of Dorian’s cock sliding over his prostate with each long, hard stroke, and oh Maker it felt so good, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out. The stimulation was almost unbearable when combined with the stuttering pattern of piercings moving in and out across the rim of his entrance. Tears ran down his face and words and sounds slid from his lips, but he had no idea what he was saying. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of torturous pleasure, Dorian slammed into him so hard he fell forward over his arms. The mage gave a shout, his balls contracting against Cullen’s ass while his cock pulsed inside him.

Dorian gave a final shudder and leaned forward to rest against Cullen’s back, whispering more unintelligible endearments in his ear. They were both breathing as if they had run a race, but without the stimulation of Dorian pounding into him, Cullen was slowly regaining his self control. It didn’t stop him from giving a groan as his lover pulled back out of him, one last slide of those little golden balls against the sensitive rim of his stretched hole making him whimper.

“Oh, amatus, you are a gift. I don’t know how I ever managed without you.” Dorian’s hands gently stroked over Cullen’s hips, soothing and sweet. “Turn over, love, you’ve earned a treat.”

Cullen managed to heave himself onto his back with no illusion at all that he did it gracefully. He fisted his hands in the bedding to keep from touching himself. His ass ached, the skin still hot from his spanking as it pressed against the rough fabric of his blanket. His hole, open and leaking, still twitched from the thorough fucking, which was always a strange sensation. Dorian was sitting between his legs, backside resting on his heels as he looked down at Cullen with a gentle smile.

“The way you hurt for me is so gorgeous little lion cub.”

“Mmm… the way you hurt me is beautiful, Dorian.” His voice was hoarse from all the moaning and sobbing and cursing and whatever else he managed to vocalize while out of his mind with lust. He felt a bit calmer, though his cock still ached, but there was a quiet satisfaction in pleasing Dorian. The exhaustion of staying on his elbows and knees with several stone of Tevinter driving into him also added to the feeling of lassitude. Dorian gave a small chuckle before folding himself over and beginning to kiss his way down Cullen’s belly, a repeat of his earlier performance. This time though, there was no teasing, no torment, just the engulfing pleasure of Dorian’s hot, wet, talented mouth engulfing his cock in one perfect motion, taking the head into his throat. It took all of Cullen’s willpower, but he managed to stay still and not buck his hips up into that incredible heat. He fisted his hands in his own hair, pulling at the mess of curls in desperation to keep himself under control. There was no way he would be able to last for long with Dorian swirling his tongue over his head, along the veins of his shaft, and down to take each one of his balls into his mouth with meticulous care. 

Cullen couldn’t help but groan, though a tiny voice in the back of his mind pointed out he would be useless for yelling at new recruits the next day. That voice was quickly silenced as pleasure shoved every coherent thought right out of his head.

“Dorian, I can’t _please_ , _please_ love, I _can’t…_ ” He tugged hard at his hair as one of Dorian’s hands cupped his balls, the other bracing the base of his cock so that his tongue could dart over Cullen’s slit. 

“ _Please_.” His voice broke on the word, a sob escaping him, he was _so close_ …Dorian’s mouth left him though his hands stayed in place and Cullen had to swallow what felt like it might have been a scream of frustration.

“Yes, amatus, _now_. I want you to come in my mouth.” Then Dorian’s mouth engulfed him, hands and mouth moving quickly, almost rough, squeezing and sucking with abandon. Cullen let go of his own hair and reached down to slide his fingers into Dorian’s. His abdominal muscles strained as he held himself upright to look down at the gorgeous sight of that beautiful mouth on his swollen cock. Dorian glanced up at him and his blue-grey eyes looked almost violet in the moonlight. All it took was that heated look in the mage’s eyes and Cullen’s control shattered, his orgasm cresting over him like a wave, all his muscles going taut as Dorian’s greedy mouth took his come, squeezing and licking, so that not a drip was left.

Cullen drifted, eyes closed, all the tension draining from his body as he felt Dorian crawl up the bed to lay beside him, one arm sliding across the warrior’s chest. He was exhausted, but it was the pleasant exhaustion he felt after a truly challenging sparring session. He gave a little hum of contentment and opened his eyes so that he could stroke his fingers over Dorian’s smooth skin, tracing the pattern of his arcane tattoo. Cullen was fascinated by it, and it never ceased to amaze him that he was in love with a _mage_. A necromancer no less! He gave a little laugh and shifted so he could rest his head on Dorian’s shoulder as his eyes grew heavy. Perhaps he would manage to fall back asleep and avoid any more nightmares.

“Well isn’t this just a delightful fucking picture.”

His eyes snapped open and he lifted his head to see the Inquisitor at the end of the bed, perfectly illuminated by a beam of moonlight. Like his dream from earlier that night she was completely naked, her white hair loose and flowing down her back, except for one long strand that fell perfectly between her breasts, drawing his attention lower. He quickly lifted his eyes back up to her face, utterly confused and caught between anger at her intrusion and embarrassment over what he was sure was his utterly fucked-out appearance.

“You’re late, darling,” said Dorian beside him, voice full of cruel humor. Cullen turned to look at him, and he’d never seen such a viciously ugly smile on the other man’s face. He pulled away from his lover, anxiety sitting low in his gut.

“Dorian, what’s going on?” He asked, and the anger in his voice was undeniable. Dust laughed, and it drew his attention back to her. She stalked out of the moonlight but the darkness didn’t obscure her at all. She glowed faintly, the Mark pulsing with green light. She crawled onto the bed, and her movements were as disturbing as they were arousing. She moved with a strange animal grace, even more predatory than when she was fighting, and when she grinned at him, her teeth were far, far sharper than they should have been.

“What’s going on, my delicious little mortal, is that this bastard stole you from me tonight.” She straddled Cullen and he tried to pull back, suddenly terrified to be touched by her. There was no where to go and her thighs clamped tight, holding his hips in place with shocking strength. Her hand, thankfully not the one with the Mark, pressed against his chest, long nails digging painfully into his skin. He cried out when she twitched them further into his skin, actually drawing blood. She merely laughed again, low and cruel and pressed down over his groin, brushing against his flaccid cock with the white curls at the apex of her thighs. 

“Wasn’t the damn mage enough for you, you greedy shit? You even got Izzket destroyed with your greed!” She was addressing Dorian, and Cullen had absolutely no clue what any of it meant. He struggled again, but Lavellan snarled and moved her hand to his throat, cutting off his air with terrifying speed and pressure.

“Calm yourself you foolish child.” Dorian said condescendingly. “Izzket was an idiot and provoked the mage. He also sucked up half of all the lovely energy we managed to create with him. This one was vulnerable, and you were simply taking entirely too long.” Dust _growled_ at Dorian, and the sound was not something that could possibly have come from her throat. He clutched at her arm, trying to push it away so he could breath, but she ignored him completely, her fingers like steel against his neck.

“Are you joking? I was already here when you decided to blast me right out of his head! He’s scarred, and the others gnaw on him like he’s a fucking chew toy, they waste him! This one is _mine_ and you have no right to touch him!” The words echoed strangely, and he must have been losing consciousness because she had begun to glow brighter, with a strange purple light. He turned to Dorian, hoping for help, but Dorian was also glowing - a purple so dark that it almost looked like a black cloud instead of a glow. He blinked desperately, hoping to clear his mind, to grasp what was happening.

“He’s yours is he?” Dorian laughed, and his voice echoed in a deeper register than the Inquisitor’s. “Is that why you’re killing him you little mongrel?” 

Dust looked down at her hand around Cullen’s throat and loosened her grip. He took a desperate gasp of air and coughed, throat aching. He glanced between the Inquisitor and Dorian - they were both looking at him with hunger, though Dorian’s was far less intense. The walls of his room seemed to shift and bend as he looked at them, that strange purple light pulsing.

It hit him then. Hit him with the same familiar dread as the dreams of Kinloch, of being ripped apart from the inside while he watched his comrades ripped to pieces physically by abominations.

“Fucking _demons_!” This time it was his turn to growl. The two wearing the faces of people he cared for laughed.

“Figured that out did you?” Dorian’s face and form dissolved and reformed into a massive horned desire demon, purple eyes glowing as he ran one clawed finger down Cullen’s arm. “Don’t be angry little mortal, you gave a truly delectable performance. I must say I think you’re much better at this in your own head than you were in the mage’s. But then again, that was likely Izzket’s fault.”

Cullen wrenched away from the large demon, beginning to struggle in earnest. Dust snarled and her form shimmered, growing slightly larger and shifting into the form of a lust demon, purple skin, slender grey horns, and fangs that could have bitten through steel. Her touch burned against his neck. He knew it would end soon - once his mind accepted he was in the Fade, the demons would lose power and he’d wake gasping and sweating in his own bed. These two were simply stronger than the fear demons he normally fought in his dreams. 

The female demon’s other hand came up as she growled at him, clawed fingers crooking in obvious threat, but he continued to struggle. He knew whatever she did was going to hurt. He gritted his teeth, reminding himself it was only a dream, preparing for the phantom suffering. 

Her strike never came. There was a flash of emerald light and both demons cried out, cowering away from it in obvious fear. 

“Commander?” A low female voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, and the Fade shook around him. “Cullen? Wake up!”

His eyes flew open and he shoved himself away from the presence touching him, utterly panicked. Unfortunately, since he had apparently fallen asleep at his desk, fully armored, he fell out of his chair with a crash.

“Cullen!” Dust’s voice, devoid of any strange echo. “Fen’harel’s balls Cullen, are you all right?”

The Inquisitor leaned over his desk, dark face obviously concerned. She was fully clothed, which was definitely a relief, wearing the same black pants and tunic she had been wearing during their aborted chess game. She reached out tentatively and then blinked down at her Marked hand, which was crackling with energy, obviously surprised.

“Well that’s new.” Her voice sounded worried and she glanced back down at him, biting her lip in obvious consternation. “I’m so sorry I startled you. I came to see if you wanted to learn to play Wicked Grace, but you were asleep and it sounded like you were having a miserable nightmare. I shouldn’t have touched you, I’m so, so sorry.”

With a groan he climbed up out of the tangle he seemed to be in with his chair, too exhausted and full of remembered terror to be embarrassed. He sat down heavily once the chair was upright, leaning forward and resting his head in his hands, unable to look at her without imagining her bare and grinning in moonlight. He shuddered. He felt sick and used and angry… and highly aroused. 

This was worse than dreams of Kinloch. Those were familiar, if painful, and he could drive them away, but to have his own desires used against him and not even realize it was happening was painful and mortifying. _Maker’s breath!_ He had truly believed Dorian was his lover, that they had… He couldn’t even finish the thought, the mix of emotions too difficult to untangle. He was never going to be able to look at either of them without blushing. Which sadly, would not make for a huge difference in his life.

“Cullen?” It was Dust’s voice again, lower and gentler than he thought he’d ever heard it. He felt a spark of fear, what if he was still asleep and she was just another type of demon? Before he knew what he was doing he reached out and grabbed her hand, focusing his will and Smote her.

She blinked and looked down at his gauntleted hand on hers in confusion.

“Uh… Commander? What in the Void was that? I definitely felt _something_ …” Her head tilted to the side and he felt the first hint of embarrassment begin to push through the fear. _Andraste preserve me, what have I done?_ “Did you just try to use Holy Smite on me?”

Her stare was utterly incredulous, mouth hanging slightly open. He felt his cheeks heat until he knew they would be flaming red. This was shaping up to be one of the most embarrassing nights of his life, even including the night he had lost at Wicked Grace.

“Uh… yes. I apologize, I was having a nightmare in the Fade and…” He trailed off, not sure how to finish. _And you were naked and choking me and I had just been thoroughly fucked by a desire demon wearing Dorian’s likeness._ Well that bloody well wasn’t ever coming out of his mouth. “It felt rather too real. Holy Smite works very well on demons.”

To his utter surprise, she laughed, a sound of simple amusement, not the cruel parody from his dream. After a moment, she looked down pointedly at where he was still holding her hand, and he removed it as if he were going to be burned, immediately repositioning it to the back of his neck with no thought at all.

“That really must have been one impressive nightmare. I suppose if demons were getting frisky in your head, it might explain why touching you made the the damned Mark wake up. Perhaps it works even with a dream’s connection to the fade.” She sounded uncertain, looking at her hand with an expression he guessed was primarily disgust.

“I’m afraid that’s a discussion you must have with Solas, Inquisitor.” 

Dust sighed and sat down on the edge of his desk, toying with a displaced quill. The Mark had quieted, but it was still rather fascinating to watch her tattooed skin flex as she prodded at the brindled feather.

“Won’t that be delightful. I’ll get to spend an afternoon being poked and prodded while he mutters incomprehensibly and then defames the Dalish. Sounds delightful.” Her maudlin tone surprised a chuckle out of him, which felt amazingly good. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, her mouth turning up in a tiny half smile. “I… uh… don’t suppose we could keep this new bit of Fade lore to ourselves?”

Cullen smiled back at her. He had to conclude that desire demons were merely guessing what mortals wanted, because her little half smile elicited a far greater longing than her completely naked form had in his dreams. The first time she had spoken to him alone she had smiled that same little smile, and he had felt as if the entire world shifted. He had assumed he was shy, only to discover that she simply had extremely light-sensitive eyes and tended to look up from beneath her eyelashes to try and protect them from the sunlight. There was nothing shy about Dust Lavellan, but the smile still made his heart beat faster.

As painful, embarrassing, and _stimulating_ as the dream had been, it was rather nice to have company as he regained his composure. Admittedly having flagrantly erotic dreams about one of his male friends was unexpected, but all in all it was still preferable to dreaming about the Circle. And really until the end it had actually been rather… pleasant. He felt himself blushing again and simply gave up fighting it. Surely, Dust had seen him blush enough that she probably didn’t even notice any longer. He looked up at her and she was watching him with her head cocked to the side, a hopeful little smile on her lips. This wasn’t how he had hoped to get her into his quarters at night, but he certainly wasn’t going to look gift demons in the mouth if it led to spending more time together. 

“Cullen?” Her questioning tone brought him back from his woolgathering. “Our little secret with the glowing bit?”

“I suppose something might be arranged, Inquisitor.” He gave her a small smile, lip pulling up higher on the scared side of his mouth. “You teach me how to play Wicked Grace, and if you win, mum’s the word to Solas or anyone else.”

Another laugh, just as genuine this time, and she grinned at him, full lips pulled back over teeth only slightly sharper than a human’s.

“That, my dear Commander, is a deal.” She turned to him, pulling a pack of cards from _somewhere,_ laying it upon his desk with the care one would use for a religious idol. “The first thing you need to know about Wicked Grace, is that there’s only one way to beat an Antivan - by cheating.”


	5. Queen Blocks Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some discussion of boundaries seems in order...

“You, my lovely peacock, are a filthy cheater.” Dorian nearly dropped his tankard at the sound of Dust’s voice in his ear. _How on earth does she know, did Bull tell her?_ He could feel his cheeks growing hot and he opened his mouth to stammer out who knew what, but then her arms snaked around his shoulders and she laughed. “Which I admire about you Dorian, but if you’re going to teach me to cheat at chess, I expect you to at least do it well!”

Dorian let out a startled and relieved laugh, making no objection when Dust plopped down in his lap and took a swig from his tankard. She made a surprised face at the Ferelden ale, raising a single eyebrow at him before tipping her head back and chugging back the rest.

“ _Fasta vass_ woman! You’re buying me another one you thief.” She set the tankard down with a laugh, ruffling his dark hair. He hissed and grabbed her wrist. “Stop that you ridiculous thing!”

“You owe me Dorian. Not only did you use me to cheat, you then left me there and I was forced to play chess with the Commander to apologize for your poor behavior.” She rolled her pale eyes, lips pinched on the left side in disgust. He grinned sheepishly.

“Figured that out did you?”

“Dorian, you are _not_ subtle. You were being entertaining so I didn’t pay it any attention at first, but I realized later what you were up to. You really shouldn’t tease Cullen, I need him to lead an army and he can’t do that if he has a stroke from blushing.”

“Has it occurred to you my darling Inquisitor, that it is not _I_ who was making him blush, but you? That was the whole point.” She gave a snort of derision and shook her head. The thick white hair that grew long between the two shaved sides of her head was pulled tightly back, braided onto itself, making her look quite severe and more than a little intimidating. With the hoop in her septum and the pointed stud beneath her full lower lip, she looked every bit the terrifying Dalish huntress, as much feared in their way as Tevinter blood mages. When she narrowed her eyes at him it should have been intimidating, but it simply made him want to pat her on the head. His best friend could gut him like a fish, and his lover was a great, axe-wielding berserker. Dorian was far too attracted to dangerous things.

“Dorian, I love you, but you’re an idiot.”

“ _What?”_ Dorian didn’t even have to pretend to look offended this time.

“Yes, of course, just me Cullen was distracted by. Except once you left he got a whole lot less distracted. I had to start doing impressions of the Inner Circle, or he’d have made me play an entire damn game. Also, we got caught, and now I have to really learn to play chess so that he’ll play cards with Josie again.”

He blinked at her, feeling like… well, not an idiot, never that, but certainly that was a convoluted knot of events to try and unravel.

“I’m… confused. What in the Void does my presence have to do with distracting Cullen? And how did you convince him to play cards again, and when is it happening, because I intend to win that coat from him, and then burn it.” Dust laughed.

“Essentially he’s blackmailing me into learning to play chess. He offered to play against Josie if I agreed to let him teach me. He did it _in front_ of her, the clever bastard, meaning there’s no way I’ll be able to get out of it if I want to avoid her wrath.” Dorian nodded. The Ambassador was diminutive, yet terrifying.

“And as for you, my adorable, blind peacock, I assure you that Cullen finds you and I _together_ more distracting than just me by myself.” He brushed the thought away with a snort and a wave of his hand.

“I very much doubt that my dear. I don’t think I’m exactly the Commander’s _type.”_ Both white eyebrows went up this time as she looked at him seriously for a moment, head tilted to the side in consideration.

“You actually think Cullen isn’t the least bit affected by your flirting?”

“Oh well of course it embarrasses him a bit, but he takes the teasing quite well. Cullen isn’t interested in men.”

“I see…” She said slowly, one eyebrow raised in a look of extreme skepticism. “He’s told you that himself?”

“What? Maker no! I might be a flirt but I’m not about to go prying into the poor man’s sex life. Or lack thereof.” He added with a smirk. The last bit did earn him a snicker, but Dust shook her head at him again.

“Dorian, trust me, Cullen is _not_ immune to your charms. I doubt he’s going to be challenging Bull to a duel, but he was a Templar, and no one plays hide-the-practice-sword like a couple of Templar recruits.”

“Oh all right, now I _know_ Bull put you up to this.” He said in exasperation, pushing her off of his lap. She went willingly enough, but simply leaned back against the table in front of him, arms crossed over her chest and muscular legs stretched out to balance herself. “Hide-the-practice-sword, my ass; you could at least use a different juvenile nickname.”

“Well ass is rather the _point_ of hide-the-practice-sword,” she said with a smirk. “But I haven’t actually seen Bull since he went off to chase yours yesterday.”

“Wait… so you both think Cullen is…”

“From the south, and therefore not as worried about the gender of who he has sex with than all of Tevinter? Yes, that is exactly what I think, and probably what Bull thinks too. Meaning that I was simply an extra accessory to cheating yesterday, not the primary culprit.” She gave him a pointed and knowing look, obviously waiting for him to draw some kind of conclusion.

Dorian blinked, eyebrows pulling together. He had genuinely believed Bull was just having him on, an excuse to whisper delightful, naughty things in his ear, but if _Dust_ was telling him this, well that put it in a rather different light.

“Do you… really think so?” He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the whole idea, particularly after last night’s oh so vivid encounter with his personal desire demons. Was Cullen actually attracted to him? Well that would hardly be surprising, he was gorgeous. But that _did_ put his flirting in a whole new light. What if… no. There was no way in the Void that Cullen thought he was serious. Especially with Bull making it clear the two of them were involved. Loudly, to anyone who would listen, usually at the most inappropriate time possible.

“As I said Peacock, I don’t think he’s going to be challenging The Bull to a duel for your hand any time soon, but I doubt he’s as immune to your charms as you seem to think.” She waved a hand at one of the barmaids and pointed to Dorian’s empty tankard, then held up two fingers. It was one of the redheads, he could never tell them apart, and they seemed to be multiplying. The woman grinned at the Inquisitor and nodded. Important drinking duties taken care of she turned her attention back to Dorian.

He tapped his foot, crossing his arms over his chest, unconsciously mirroring her position. He felt… guilty. Probably just a strange leftover bit of emotion from last night’s events, and yet he couldn’t shake himself of it.

“Do you…” He began, and she tilted her head, waiting for him to continue. “Do you think I should stop? Flirting with the Commander I mean?”

“Do you think you _can_?” She returned, laughter heavy in her voice.

“Of course I can! Difficult as it is to dim my natural charm, I don’t flirt with _everyone_.”

“Well true… But I’m not sure if Mother Giselle really counts. You _did_ point out the acclaim your tongue has earned when she tried to scold you.”

“Ugh, really, _must_ you put that image in my head. And I don’t flirt with Varric, Solas, Blackwall or Sera!” He was triumphant at having managed an entire list.

“Lie, Lie, Lie, and only because trying to flirt with Sera is confusing and she thinks your ‘man bits’ are gross.” She looked incredibly smug, holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers to indicate quotations when she said man bits.

“ _Fine_ , I don’t flirt with Cole!” He answered triumphantly.

“Huh…” Her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed in consideration. “Granted, you don’t flirt with him, but it doesn’t count because he’s not human.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, humanity is hardly a bar, after all I flirt with you, with Bull, with Dagna, and…” He began to realize that the argument was quickly devolving, much like yesterday’s chess match. He sighed and flopped back in his chair, uncrossing his arms and legs, giving her foot a petulant nudge with the toe of his boot.

The redhead returned with two flagons of what he assumed was the same Fereldan ale he had been drinking before the Inquisitor’s interruption. The barmaid was pretty in a rather common way, with round hips and a very large bosom. He tried not to imagine that bosom bouncing as she giggled on Bull’s lap, lest he be tempted to set the poor girl on fire.

“Anything else, Your Worship?” Her tone was undeniably suggestive as she looked up at Dust from under obviously darkened eyelashes. Reaching past the Inquisitor, she placed one tankard on the elf’s other side, using the excuse to press her breasts against Dust’s arm and chest. Dorian blinked in surprise again. Perhaps there was no need to set the girl on fire after all.

“We’re fine Nina, thanks.” Dust gave her a small, knowing smile. “I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

“You do that, Your Worship.” She didn’t give Dorian so much as a backward glance before sauntering off, generous hips swaying.

“Ahem… and speaking of rampant flirting, what was _that_ display, might I ask?”

Dust took a sip of her ale, and looked at him from under long, white lashes, the picture of innocence. He gave her a decidedly skeptical look and she couldn’t manage to keep her innocent expression. She laughed and set her tankard down.

“Nothing.” She replied, chuckling. “She just has a bit of a crush is all. I’ve made it clear nothing’s going to happen. Perhaps _you_ should try the same with Cullen.”

“Oh, no you don’t, that’s an obvious deflection tactic, and a poor one at that. How long have you been breaking the hearts of busty bar wenches.”

“I’m not breaking anyone’s _heart_ Dorian.” She said, rolling her eyes at him. “Remember that night I kissed Sera for that stupid bet? With the throwing daggers?”

“Vividly.” He responded. It had been memorable. Even _he_ had to admit that the sight of the Inquisitor kissing Sera passionately while she pinned the blond elf to the wall with a border of throwing daggers had been… stimulating. Sera had practically swooned, Josie giggled uncontrollably, Cullen turned completely red, Varric began scribbling furiously in a notebook, all of the Chargers had cheered, and Bull had dragged Dorian to his quarters before he had had the time to watch any other reactions. It had been a _very_ good night.

“Well it gave Nina there ideas. But as I said, I made it very clear nothing was going to come of it. We still flirt because a little flirting never hurt as long as both parties know where they stand.” Dust shrugged but gave him yet another pointed look.

“Ugh, fine, point made Inquisitor. I will discuss my… propensity for flirting with the Commander. I’m certain that won’t be at all awkward for either of us.” He said sourly.

“It will be good for you - just imagine, you’ll get to be in Cullen’s boots for a change.” She said, giving him a wink.

“Thank you I will pass, his boots are as terrible as that coat.” Dust laughed outright.

“Poor Cullen. Perhaps you could lend him something fashionable to wear. He’s not that much bigger than you, maybe _he’d_ like to try going sleeveless in the snow.”

“Now you’re just being insulting, Inquisitor. I’m going to go. I have a game of chess to play, and an incredibly awkward conversation to have, if you don’t mind.” She waved her tankard in a salute with a truly evil grin.

“Have fun Peacock.”

“I expect you to pay my bar tab.” Dust shot a glance to the red-headed bar maid and back at him.

“Oh, I’m sure I can take care of it for you _somehow_.” She said, and then she _winked_ at him.

“ _Festis bei umo canavarum!_ ” He tossed over his shoulder, doing his best to wrap the remains of his dignity about him and walk out into the light of the Skyhold afternoon, accompanied by the sound of Dust’s laughter.

* * *

Cullen looked tired. Well Cullen generally looked a bit tired - Dorian was fairly certain the man had only a passing understanding of how sleep worked - but he looked _more_ tired than usual. He also kept giving Dorian odd little glances and either blushing or looking worried. It was very distracting and just made him feel more guilty, which made him cranky. It was all ridiculous.

“You look dreadful Commander. Late night?” Dorian asked, annoyance and guilt making his tongue sharper than usual.

“Uh, yes, rather actually. I had…” Cullen’s eyes flashed to Dorian and it was the worried look this time. Dorian would have preferred the blushing. “Odd dreams.”

Dorian felt a shiver run up his spine and did _not_ think about the feeling of Cullen’s hand on his throat, or mouth on his, or his cock driving deep into- He sat up primly in his chair and crossed his legs. _It never happened._

“I should think a being a Templar would provide you with some resistance to denizens of the Fade, even in dreams.”

Cullen’s eyes flashed to him and Dorian couldn’t interpret the look at all. Cullen shook his head.

“ _Ex_ -Templar. And no. I very much wish it did.” There was a surprising amount of emotion to the statement and Dorian found himself more curious than he should have been about Cullen’s dreams. But as there was also an obvious reticence to his expression, Dorian did not push.

“Well hopefully tonight you won’t be plagued by uncomfortable dreams.” Dorian said neutrally. _And me either, Maker please._

“Actually the Inquisitor woke me and we played cards rather late into the night, which is contributing to the tiredness as well.” Dorian blinked. And then he grinned. Oh revenge would be so _very_ sweet.

“I’m sorry Commander… did you just say that the Inquisitor woke you and then you played _cards?_ I’ll admit that is the first time I’ve run across that particular euphemism.”

“What?” Cullen looked confused and then his eyes went wide and he blushed red as a beet. “Maker’s breath, Dorian! No, it wasn’t like that. I fell asleep at my desk and she came to my quarters to see if I wanted to play Wicked Grace. She has decided to teach me in exchange for chess lessons.”

Cullen was still blushing by the time he finished, but not so brightly, and there was a definite hint of smugness in his tone at the mention of chess.

“How disappointing.” Dorian said with a sigh.

“ _Dorian…_ ” Cullen’s tone was exasperated, just a bit sharp.

“Yes, yes, of course, you don’t have feelings for her, she’s the Inquisitor, it wouldn’t be seemly, etcetera, etcetera.” Dorian shook his head, considering the board, and peeked at Cullen from under his lashes. “But that would have been a much better story if ‘played cards’ meant ‘I bent her over my desk and had my way with her.’”

“DORIAN!” Cullen practically shouted, his cheeks catching fire. Dorian couldn't help but laugh uproariously. “Maker’s breath, Dorian, _enough_!”

“Apologies…” He turned a final chuckle into a cough, and Cullen planted his face in his hands with a groan.

“Wonderful,” the Commander muttered. “Now that’s all I’ll be able to think about when she walks into my office for at least a week. I’ll never stop blushing.”

“You’re welcome.” Dorian couldn't keep from sounding smug. It earned him a scowl from Cullen which simply made him grin again. Then the scowl changed and Cullen’s lips twitched into that _smirk_ and Dorian felt things he most definitely should not, remembering those lips in places they’d never actually been.

“Of course you know it wasn’t actually the Inquisitor I was having uncomfortable dreams about.” Dorian’s eyebrows shot up of their own volition. Cullen’s voice was low and, well… suggestive. Was he dreaming again? He surreptitiously pinched his own thigh, but the pain sent confusing signals to his body as he remembered Cullen’s fingers pinching the inside of his naked thigh. Dorian swallowed, his throat suddenly going dry.

“Oh?” He was incredibly grateful that his voice didn’t crack like an adolescent, because it certainly felt as if it might.

“Yes, and I’ll admit it was a bit of a surprise having my normal chess partner show up naked in my dreams.” Cullen casually tapped his chin as he considered the board. “Of course I can’t really speak to the accuracy of the form the demon took.”

Cullen looked up at him from under mink brown lashes and Dorian simply blinked. Cullen’s face was still a bit flushed, but it seemed like being in charge of the blatantly inappropriate discussion had given him a bit of control over his reactions. Dorian, on the other hand, was feeling deeply grateful for his dark skin, hoping it would hide the worst of the heat in his cheeks.

“So tell me, Dorian.” Cullen’s voice was too low, and for some reason Skyhold was far too warm. “For the sake of accuracy… do you have any piercings other than those?”

Cullen gestured to Dorian’s septum hoop and the the three glinting gold hoops in each of his ears. Dorian felt his eyes go quite wide.

“Ummm…” It was all Dorian could manage, but Cullen sat back, smirk firmly in place and looked far too proud of himself. “ _Kaffas_ Cullen, really?”

“Well if I’m making you _uncomfortable_ Dorian, I’ll stop of course.” Ugh, no, it was _intolerable_ how smug the man looked, Dorian refused to let him have the upper hand.

“Actually body piercings are quite common in the North, considered quite fashionable.” He gave what he knew to be a very wicked smile.

“I have an adornment know as an Archon’s Ladder. Oh and my nipples are pierced of course. That’s something the Inquisitor and I have in common.” He said it offhandedly with a wave of his hand to indicate that it was of no great consequence.

This time Cullen didn’t blush but went white, blood no doubt flowing to other places as his eyes went very wide, pupils dilated. The Commander’s tongue darted out over his lips, the pink tip gliding over his scar and making Dorian feel slightly less smug. His own blood was heading southward as well.

“Well… um… quite. Thank you for sharing.” Cullen looked down at the board and then with a rueful laugh threw his hands up and sat back in his chair. “I forfeit, there isn’t the slightest chance I’ll be able to concentrate on this game. I cannot even believe that I’m having this conversation.”

Dorian laughed and sat back himself.

“I’m afraid I’m in the same boat Commander. And I’m going to point out that you _did_ ask.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually _answer_!”

“Ha! You should know better than to think you’d manage to defeat me with suggestive conversation Cullen. We spend an entire year training in innuendo in the Circle.”

“Yes I’m sure, right along with evil laughter and dressing totally inappropriately.”

“At least I manage to keep my clothes on when I play cards _Commander._ ”

Cullen groaned. “Don’t remind me. And how _exactly_ do you know what body parts the Inquisitor has _pierced_?” The word pierced was a bit choked but he managed to actually spit it out.

“Ha, I wondered how long it would take you to get around to that.” Dorian responded dryly. “We spend a great deal of time in the field together Commander, and have often shared a tent. Plus the rare opportunity to bathe far outweighs any sense of false modesty, especially in places with _sand_.”

“Ah, I see.” Cullen said. His blush was back and he seemed to have a bit of trouble meeting Dorian’s eyes. “But doesn’t all of that…” He trailed off, making a vague gesture that seemed to encompass Dorian’s entire body. “Doesn’t it _hurt_?”

“Exquisitely.” Dorian responded, unable to resist giving a suggestive smile. Cullen’s flustered face was simply too precious. The Commander made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a groan and covered his face.

“Dorian if I ever ask you about this again, _please_ don’t answer.” Dorian laughed. Poor Cullen.

“Well then let me ask instead - how did the card game go last night? I assume there was no wagering clothes.” Cullen removed his hand from his face but his expression was still a bit disgruntled.

“No, thank the Maker, since I didn’t win a single hand against her last night! If Dust ever plays chess as well as she plays cards you and I will both be in trouble.”

Dorian almost commented on the rare use of Dust’s actual name, but decided that perhaps it was time to end that particular round of teasing before he hit an actual sore spot.

“Yes, well that’s why I was teaching her to cheat _badly_ if you must know.” He sat forward pointing a finger accusingly at Cullen. “In case you hadn’t noticed, our dear little elf has a memory like a trap. You’re the one who decided she should actually learn the game properly.”

“Wait… you don’t mean to say that was on purpose? Dorian that’s quite unfair!” Cullen looked so shocked Dorian couldn’t help but laugh.

“My dear Commander, in case you haven’t noticed, I _cheat,_ and very well too . What makes you think I’d play fair with Lavellan any more than I do with you?”

Cullen chuckled ruefully. “I suppose that _was_ naive of me. Well, shall we reset the board and actually play this time?”

“Yes, quite. But I’m still counting this as a win.”

They were quickly resetting their pieces when Dorian remembered what he was actually supposed to be talking to Cullen about and frowned. Cullen had admitted to _dreaming_ about him _._ Of course he had dreamed of Cullen as well… but even then Bull had been present. _Ugh, this is too complicated. It’s almost enough to make me miss quick fucks at parties._

“So… Commander.” He started, cautiously. “It’s been brought to my attention that my rather… flirtatious nature may have given you certain, uh, expectations which I’m not at liberty to fulfill.”

Cullen looked up from the board, face the picture of confusion.

“I’m sorry Dorian, I don’t really understand.” Dorian swore under his breath. Damn Fereldens, had they no subtlety?

“Dust thinks my flirting with you may give you the impression that I want a more… extensive relationship. I had rather assumed you know I don’t mean anything by it.”

“Oh… Of course I do!” Cullen said with a chuckle. “Blushing aside Dorian, I’m not an idiot and I’m not as innocent as you all seem to think. Not that I wouldn’t be flattered, mind you, but I can’t imagine you having the time or energy for anything else now that you and Bull are keeping company.”

“Keeping company?” He asked with a relieved laugh. “Now that I know is a euphemism.”

“Well ‘fucking like nugs’ seems a bit disrespectful.” Cullen gave him a bland look, but his golden eyes gleamed with humor.

“ _Cullen!_ ” Dorian spluttered, eyes wide, fighting down slightly hysterical laughter.

“Dorian you have a _bite mark_ on your neck.” Dorian’s hand flew to his neck, adjusting his collar to try and hide the evidence of the morning’s amorous activities. Bull had been decidedly _attentive_ when he woke Dorian. “I’m fairly certain you and Bull are not just playing chess or cards. I’m perfectly aware that you flirt with everyone. I suppose I’d be a little insulted if I wasn’t on the list.”

“I do not flirt with _everyone_! I don’t flirt with Cole.”

Cullen made a horrified face.

“Thank the Maker, I can’t even imagine how awful that would be. I’m not even sure it would work.”

“Well I don’t intend to try.”

“Good.” All the pieces had managed to returned to their starting points and Cullen leaned back in his chair, gesturing to the board. “Now then, shall we play or continue discussing euphemisms?”

“No, I think we’ve had quite enough euphemisms for one day.” Dorian made his first move, pawn to E4. “Your move Commander.”


End file.
